The Obscure Tome
by Akallas von Aerok
Summary: A basilisk has its eyes and venom. A Dead Apostle has the near immortality and desire for blood. Wizards have their magic and wands. Magi have their magecraft. Heroic Spirits, their Noble Phantasm. What did Harry get? A tome filled with the most obscure knowledge in everything and anything magical in existence.
1. Chapter 1

**Properties and theories of Blood  
by Se-Heun Suh  
with help from Austrian Academy of Higher Magic Research and Creation Institution**

During the War of Austrian Succession, there were many mages who participated in the behalf of the Archduke. One such group of mages were the Blood Worshippers of God, a heretical mage association deep in their arms into research of blood magic. They promised the archduke the most standardized blood magic that no one else can bring, and even then, all of the effects of blood magic were so widely different that the Archduke ousted them for tricking him.

However, from the standpoint of other mages under him, the Blood Worshippers had indeed brought the Archduke the most standardized delivery of blood magic spells. So then why were the effects so different with each mage?

Properties of blood has always been debated upon by magic researchers due to its non-static properties for centuries. It matters not what mage uses blood magic, the end result is always different.

For example, in the 1930's, research carried out by the esteemed Professor Quintin Sevrally of Yale University has shown that while the effect of blood magic performed by a single person will remain same as long as applied conditions were same, it was not so when another mage performed under the same applied conditions. Professor Sevrally set up the condition as so: a drop of blood and a magic circle inscribed on papyrus paper to make blue light upon absorbing magic from blood. When the professor himself did it, the magic circle brought about a blue light upon contact with his blood. When his aid, to-be-professor Benten John Steward dropped his own magic upon a new circle, the blue light was much more intensified.

Upon weighing the quantity of magic possessed by each drop of blood, it was shown that Benten John Steward had _lower_ units of prana (units of magical power) than Professor Sevrally.

Professor Sevrally went on to write the famous Theory of Blood.

In it, he suggested that blood magic could not be standardized nor generalized for the whole of wizardkind. In fact, he goes as far as to suggest that blood magic was a magic inherent in all creatures, but one suppressed due to its equally inherent danger. It is well known that blood magic has a rebound that happens much more often and much more unfavorably than any other magic. It was Professor Sevrally's theory that this is because blood magic uses the core of magic that each creature possess. Bigger the power, stronger the connection, steeper the fall.

And this is why he believes that blood magic could not standardized nor generalized; it is a magic too closely related to a being that it was more of a personification of a being's magic rather than magic conforming to the being's logic, reason, and environment.

However, the method to safely research and use blood magic within the ethical bounds has yet to be found. Perhaps it would remain that way forward.

Nevertheless, there have been countless experiments that humankind have done, many within and many outside of the ethical common senses.

Experiments carried out by Erovale de Cyiburois was particularly violent and cruel, and yet one of the most successful blood magic projects ever to date. In his journal, Erovale stated that blood magic could be made to bend to the will of the being and that will of another can force blood magic of another to subjugate the victim's own blood magic. He carried this experiment by kidnapping young children and elders, the group of people who do not in general have strong will. He would then break them down mentally, many times through torture and some times through simple things like not allowing the victim the company of another person.

Then once they were broken down enough, he would activate his own blood magic, one he described in his journal as "Bottled Kingship." While it has not been confirmed, he described his magic as something that can "bottle" another's magic, and if he was within a certain distance of the bottled magic, he could drain them to empower himself. It has been speculated that it was through this magic that he powered his infamous Bottle Wards, a special kind of wards that only he could produce and existed only around his house and domain. To touch the Bottle Wards was to fight your own blood, for magic reacted violently against it. Many would describe the experience of touching the hostile ward as "being thrown backward except your own body was in the way."

Nasty experience, indeed.

There were more than three thousand bottle that were found after his death, all of them meticulously engraved with runes associated to magic storage.

It was a depressing experience for the Enforcers, Aurors, and Keepers who raided the house, indeed.

However, Professor Sevrally's theory has been countered by his Chinese counterpart in the 1945, just before the end of World War II. Now, it must be noted that Chinese magical world was far different from the mundane world. Whereas the mundane world of China was under attack, being helped, fighting each other, and all sorts of things from all sides with no exception, the magical world of China was prosperous, more than before. In fact, they had become so prosperous that they had established the third ever magical empire known to the world, first being Atlantis, and second being the Court of Camelot, which was famous for its fame and short-lived life.

When World War II broke out, the magical China used it to their advantage and declared war upon the Japanese magical community, one that had direct ties to the Tenno of Japan. Yes, the Tennos are all magicals. They decimated the magical Japanese community until they surrendered, becoming a client state of Chinese magical community. The Korean magical community, fearing for its independence, created a sphere of power... one that was powered by blood magic.

It was through studying this blood magic that Professor Luzhi Song of Suzhou-Han Mofa Hanlin Yuan, the Suzhou-Han Magic Imperial Academy, concluded that blood magic was very much like what Professor Sevrally had stated with one exception.

Professor Song declared that blood magic was a _soul_ magic. His theory was that properly handling blood magic required three things. The first was a conduit, a.k.a. the body, that could withstand it. The second was a will that could tame the "fire of a soul." The third was a soul strong and big enough.

The conduit was easy enough to be explained and understood; after all, there were many other examples of conduits or vessels of magic needing to be strong enough to withstand magic. One could not store magic in the scale of tens of thousands of pranas ... in a bucket. If one tried such a thing, the bucket would shatter. If the shrapnel did not kill you, the explosive force of a pressurized magic would.

The second part was confusing. Professor Song described the "Fire of a Soul" as something that was abstract as a soul from the perspective of the mundane. One could not touch the soul without magic, after all. He did describe it further as it being something that fuels the existence of the soul.

In the words of other Soul Wizards, this was called the Catalyst, a piece of a soul that was said to be the subconscious part of it, much like the subconscious that existed in our brain as memories, feelings, and such.

The third part is still debated. Ever since Professor Song died, his students have split up his work, and began to debate over what a strong soul was.

One party would ask how does one measure? It could not be measured by phenotypes or the behavior of an individual.

Another would state that one did not measure a soul, for it grows and fluctuates.

And yet another would said "fuck you both" and denounce both of them stating that they were all idiots for not knowing what a soul was: soul was their consciousness given form by magic.

Debate continues, obviously. Ask your friends and give them all three points; it is sure to ruin some friendships.

The Song Theory and the Sevrally Theory have been at it for years, for 58 years to be precise.

However, it has been agreed by supporters of both sides and those watching that blood magic, whatever its mechanic and origin, was tested human moral and laws too much. It was for this reason that the Law of Blood was drawn up by most of the nations, to prevent the spread of knowledge of blood magic. Korean, Swiss, and Norwegian magical communities have yet to sign up. It is for this reason that schools, universities, and academies do not have a shred of knowledge on blood magic outside the most restricted of sections or the personal library of a trusted and licensed knowledge keeper.

Usage of blood magic itself is simple, though.

It requires three ingre .. an.. 1. ... od ... un ...

 _[Rest of the page has been blotted out.]_


	2. Chapter 2

Emiya Shirou was someone with strong will and justice. His earliest memories were that of surviving a city-wide fire and being rescued. The guilt he would feel would come to become the Survivor's Guilt, and his life would be dedicated to helping those in need; to make up for surviving the fire whereas others had not.

He was someone who had inherited the ideals of a dying mercenary, who he would come to call father.

This man was dying, but he was still alive. So he taught the boy as best as he could. In many parallel worlds, he would not realize that his death would be the undoing for the boy, or perhaps his ascension.

In this world, though, his death was not so. As such, he did not die with a small smile and a calm heart. He did not leave behind a third-rate magus who supplements his spine -of all things- to act as a makeshift magic circuit. He did not give up trying to reach out to his blood and flesh, hidden and locked behind the wards of the Einzberns' castle.

Well, truth be told...

He didn't die at all.

Because he met a traveling merchant with a tome that would have Mage Association spasming with envy and ecstasy.

It was not some battle or defense of the boy that Kiritsugu met the man. No, he met the man in a small cafe at the edge of the town on a road that connected the town to Tokyo.

The cafe was called Welcome to Fuyuki, and it was managed by the oldest mundane man of the town.

There were two other clients there, enjoying their exquisite coffee and tea, respectively. The sky was blue with only a few wisps of clouds, and there was a slight breeze in the air.

A perfect day.

Too perfect, some would argue. Pessimists, the lot of them...

Or not.

Indeed, the day had been too perfect. Kiritsugu's sense was on high alert.

It was around 3:00 pm when that man entered. He ordered three shots of espresso, and after the waitress took the order, came and sat right in front of Kiritsugu.

"You did the right thing, you know."

The man's statement alone had set Kiritsugu's alarm into high heavens because the statement could have meant anything.

Emiya Kiritsugu was a very secretive and violent man, not because of his personality but because of his existence. Hell, he was given the name Magus Killer for a reason.

And then there was Holy Grail War, something that had destroyed half of this city.

"Who sent you?"

"No one. I'm here because I exist."

"...So?"

"A proposal, if you will."

"For what?"

"Your service."

"What kind of service?"

"Your ability to keep secrets and to pass those secrets on."

The man knew about his childhood? Not many did.

"What threat level?"

"Some personal. Others deadly."

"Level."

"World-class."

Kiritsugu froze for a second before he chuckled. "There is no such level."

"Because humans and magi are too low on the hierarchy to notice it."

With that, the man pulled out a single tome, one covered in dust and age. "I found too many things in my life, and I have committed many terrible crimes."

"..."

"But what I know -what is in this book- is too much. I cannot bear the burden any longer."

"Proposal?"

"In exchange for you keeping this book safe and passing its knowledge down, I will heal your curse."

Perhaps Kiritsugu should have killed the man on the spot. Anyone who knows anything about the Fourth Holy Grail War was dangerous enough -or well-connected enough- and anyone who claims to match the power of a Heroic Spirit was crazy enough. But hope sprung within him when he heard it. Could he perhaps save Illyasviel from the castle in the Black Forest? Could he teach Shirou as he had first intended to?

Time and so many possibilities.

It was the ultimate temptation.

"What is in the book?" But even then, he was cautious.

"Secrets. Conversations. Lost knowledge of ancient magecraft. History of the world beyond the visible world of humans. A whole flora of new life that exists beyond our border. So many things."

"And a magus like yourself will part with this?"

The old man had smirked. "Calling me a magus would be like calling yourself one."

"A spellcaster."

"Indeed. My goal was to seek knowledge for knowledge sake and to record them. I had given up on reaching Akasha when I was very young. I know the horrors that are between it and us."

"The horrors...?"

"You can find out about it in this book."

"..."

"..."

"..."

"I don't have all day, lad! Give me an answer! I'm old enough already without having ya here rotting my ass off!"

That had not been expected.

"I accept."

* * *

Interesting enough, keeping the book required no special requirement.

The old geezer just tossed the book at him, and Kiritsugu had caught it without any kind of magecraft trap springing.

Opening it, on the other hand, was different.

The book had a single locking mechanism with a pin.

"It reads you to see if you are ability to reading the materials within."

Kiritsugu gave the man a raised eyebrow, asking for some details.

"I had to send my wife to the insane asylum after she looked at some of the more esoteric arts within. Against my direct recommendation, might I add. So I added that there."

"May I try?"

"Sure. It's not like it's mine anymore."

Kiritsugu touched the pin with his thumb and was surprised that instead of blood, one of the more common factors used to identify someone, the pin took a pinch of his ambient prana.

The lock remained close.

"Looks like you shouldn't."

Perhaps.

And it was good that Kiritsugu had not.

His adopted son, Shirou, had been unfortunate and fortunate at the same time to be able to look into it. After all, it had been the very first page where he had applied forgotten knowledge to save his foster father.

A year after Kiritsugu had been handed the tome, Obscure Tome, as its title was named, it was found by Shirou as he was cleaning the house after Kiritsugu fell deadly ill. Shirou had not known back then, but it was an outbreak of curses before the final strike that would have ended the Magus Killer's life.

Shirou had visited the attic in search of a replacement broom, which Kiritsugu had told him would be in the attic. But instead of the broom, he had found the tome.

Kiritsugu, knowing that the knowledge of the existence of the book resided only with him after hearing of the traveler's death, had left it unhidden and under no wards.

Shirou found it and got pricked.

And the book clicked open.

On the very first page, Shirou saw the passage regarding Blood Magic. On the second page, he learned how to use blood magic.

On the next month, he healed Kiritsugu of the curse of Angra Mainyu by using his blood magic, one he would call Blood of Steel.

It was a process that used the boy's distorted mentally and soul along with his blood magic. One must remember that blood magic is personalized for each individual and, while they can be similar to one another, they will never be _same_. So Shirou had done a rather simple thing.

He had "traced" -a magecraft he had developed that was an advanced version of the Projection spell- the curse of Angra Mainyu and forged it using the magic of his blood into real steel with its main ability: to curse. He then used the sword to curse the curse. They neutralized each other.

So it had been since that day that a new path had been born.

It was not the path that Emiya Shirou, the EMIYA, the Counter Guardian had taken. It was not the path of the Enforcer Emiya, Counter Guardian EMIYA, Heroic Spirit Emiya, or harem Emiya.

This was the first path of its kind ...

The Path of the Blood King Emiya, the Blacksmith of a Thousand Conceptual Weapons, and the only acknowledged rival of the Heroic Spirit Gilgamesh.

* * *

Missing pages on the subject of Blood Magic, as continued by Editor Simon Bloomfield of North American Institute of Magic.

 _"... be noted that Blood Magic can also be a power that True Ancestors and Dead Apostle Ancestors can wield. In fact, there are evidence that go far as to suggest that the magic they use are their own variations of the Blood Magic. However, due to lack of volunteers among the True Ancestors and True Dead Apostle Ancestors, this will remain a theory._

 _Blood Magic need not use blood as a catalyst as the mere existence of a being's soul is enough to power it._

 _Please, be careful before and when you decide to dive into this magic._

 _Reality Marble, whether or not you can fully use its potential, becomes the norm for those who invest in Blood Magic. This, by itself, lends those who use Blood Magic to be targeted by greedy researchers around the world. If this was not enough, I believe that the Blood Magic is_ _a minor form of Third Magic, one of the five True Magics known to our worlds. It requires no mana, only will, soul, and od is required to use it unlike many large-scale magecraft or magic. It is also why the effects of Blood Magic are never truly big; the od capacity of a soul determines the size of the effect._

 _It must also be noted..._

 _Unlike the rest of the magecraft, which has been declining since the Age of Gods, Blood Magic has only been increasing in power. All Blood Magic researchers have agreed upon this. Blood Magic's origin can be traced back to when the Age of Gods ended, which is the same time that humankind has begun to split itself away from Gaia. It also receives no form of interference from Gaia itself, meaning that what you see of today's Blood Magic has never been decreased. In fact, depending on the magus using Blood Magic, there have been substantial cases where the miracle output has been exponentially increased from the od input._

 _So for your sake and safety and for those around you, take caution._

 _With sincerity,_

 _Se-Heun Suh,_  
 _A researcher of Blood Magic,_  
 _Professor of Theories in Austrian Academy of Higher Magic Research,  
and the Heir to the __Barony of Lower Vienna"_

This letter had been shown to the Collective, the gathered leaders of the world's leading magi communities and in some cases mundane communities. Her efforts were able to get the Law of Blood retracted and allowed the continuation of Blood Magic research as her data proved that so far it was the only avenue that magi could funnel into should other magecrafts lose their potency too much.

Three years after the Law of Blood had been retracted, Se-Heun Suh was assassinated on 2002 by magus sent by Mage's Association, the rival of the Austrian Academy. The reason for the assassination was that she had been designated by the Mage's Association as a Sealing Designation due to her research into the Blood Magic. However, Austrian Academy of Higher Magic Research was neither part of the political realm governed by their peers in the Mage's Association nor were they accepting of this reason. Neither forewarning nor missive had been sent to the Magus Royalty of Austria regarding this issue; it was a true assassination by an assassin that had been caught in the act.

This would spark off an underground war between the two groups of magi that would rage for nearly half of a decade until the Austrian Academy succeeded in forcing the Mage's Association to surrender after the humiliating defeat off the coast of eastern Scotland where more than a hundred magi under the command of Mage's Association lost in a battle against a single individual wielding the infamous Blood Magic. His identity has yet to be released.


	3. Chapter 3

_**Jewelcraft**_  
 _ **The Myth and Truth**_

 _Jewelcraft is perhaps a wrong name for the subject. A more proper name would be Geocraft, but admittedly, jewelcraft flows better with the tongue._

 _Geocraft is much more proper term for this category of magecraft, because the mineral used for magecraft is nondiscriminatory (or magic as some of the more isolated communities have been calling them. For the purpose of grouping the audience together, True Magic as sorcery and everything else can be either magic or magecraft). Now, let it be clearly stated here that magic is nondiscriminatory. What you want as a practitioner of geocraft is to find the mineral that suits your purpose._

 _Rare gems like diamonds, rubies, sapphires, and emeralds are great for complicated geometrical magecraft/magic. However, a surprising cornerstone material used in geocraft is sandstone. Yes, a nearly worthless material known as sandstone is a cornerstone material for geocraft._

 _The reason behind this is because of sandstone's natural resistance to magic. It helps to regulate and contain side effects of geocraft as it comes more and more complex._

 _A simple example that involves sandstone is one often used by Middle Eastern wizards and magi, one that calls for a fountain of water. While the geocraft itself is not simple, its use of sandstone is. Brick-like sandstone is laid out in a circular fashion, usually a circle but an oval works as well. Then on the sandstone, the ritual partakers etch runes for water and control of water in the circle. The point of this is to make sure that once the ritual completes and water is brought forth, the ritualist can freely control water so as to not allow it to just drop unto the dirty ground._

 _Advantage of geocraft is that it doesn't have a limit. After all, the very planet we stand on is composed of rocks, no? The only reason magi and wizardkind haven't used it to the point of abusing it is because of its cost._

 _Sandstone is cheap, but its influence is limited. Diamonds allow a magus or wizard to input, alter, and combine spells like it's nobody's business, but diamonds are expensive, synthetic or natural. To perform spells that magi are particularly satisfied with, diamonds become a common ingredient of the geocraft._

 _As such financial issue is the primary reason for the lack of popularity of the well known geocraft._

 _At the same time, magi are particularly hostile to geocraft. Geocraft is, in essence, attaching one's magic into the earth, the body of Gaia, who wants to kill of magi. Wizardkin, on the other hand, have no such issue because of their phantasmal beast ancestry, not that they know this. For this reason as well, magi are not fond of wizardkin, looking down on them for their possession of "beastly blood."_

* * *

Kiritsugu closed the book right there.

What the book had been saying had been right. He knew that there existed many _wizard_ communities as opposed to the dying communities of the magi. He had met and worked with several of their "Hit Wizards." Unfortunately, what the book said about them not knowing their phantasmal beast origin was right.

After all, unlike a regular human, the wizardkin possessed a magic _core_ , something that a human cannot possess. A human magic user has a magic circuit born out of their own soul. To possess a magic core means to have a close connection with magic and Gaia, which humans are not, even if the "blood magic" chapter had been talking about humans developing their own version of the earthly magic with Blood Magic.

The revelation of this chapter alone was shocking to him.

Pieces began to fall together. He now understood why there were very few magi families focused on jewelcraft, and even then, performed experiments very rarely for a long time. They recycled whatever they could, and he _understood_.

'They don't want to recycle; they _have_ to recycle. The financial burden of buying up jewels is too much for any single family,' he thought as he opened and dove back into the book.

* * *

 _Wizardkin have turned their advantage of possessing a stronger connection to geocraft-related magic._

 _Who do you think made Avalon? Merlin by himself? Preposterous. He had the help of a literal score of wizards and witches with few magi here. It is the reason why it still exists, only known to a select few._

* * *

He closed the book again to massage his temples.

* * *

 _It must also be noted that stronger connection to geocraft does not necessarily have to be birth (i.e. magic core). By having Element and/or Origin of Earth, Strength, Nature, Mountain, Valley, Earthquake, Lava, Magma, Wasteland, or any mineral, one's connection and efficiency of geocraft could boost beyond that of a unrelated wizard._

 _A famous example of such a wizard is the first von Einzbern, Count Rupert von Einzbern of Baden. In his own records -available at Austrian Academy of Higher Magic-, he stated that his Element was Nature with Nature and Earth as his Origin. Indeed, the first von Einzbern was reincarnation ... of Nature itself. It was his study of Earth and Nature that allowed the von Einzberns to be the masters of homunculi magecraft._

 _If you haven't got the message by now, let me be clear: Earth-related reincarnations go beyond a simple boost to efficiency of their magic/magecraft. To be a reincarnation of Earth, of which there existed only a hundred in recorded history, is to be a master of geocraft. They can go further than simply being a master to even go as far as to invent new magecraft._

 _The reason for this is not clear, but one Tremor-Element wizard had speculated this:_

"The Magi talk about Gaia as an opposing force to their magic. As a wizard, I need not concern myself with such things. But if I am right, then stronger connection with Earth does not only mean efficiency of [geocraft], but also a stronger, a more personal connection to Gaia itself. I have met one magi and one wizard with such a connection to Gaia, proving that such a connection is not limited to wizardkin."

 _-David Arianiti, Patrikios of the Byzantine Empire_  
 _Year of our Lord, 1003_

 _However, the few people who know of this have made a myth out of it. Some of the Earth reincarnations even began to call themselves the "Children of Gaia." Over the centuries, they have gathered significant influence in the Greek and Anatolia peninsulas, and is the primary magic organization in the region, focusing heavily in geocraft._

 _Geocraft developed by the Children of Gaia, as expected of Earth reincarnation rich environment, surpass all other Earth-related magecraft. One such spell is the Rise of the Mountain. It is a simple spell developed by Earth reincarnations for Earth reincarnations to literally raise a mountain. The cost, of course, is high, even for Earth reincarnations, but the fact that a human can raise a mountain in mere minutes with a single spell goes to show how exactly powerful in geocraft the Children of Gaia are._

* * *

He closed the book again.

He had indeed heard about the Children of Gaia. Again, due to his job, he had worked with one or two of their members. He didn't know anything personal about the ones he worked with, of course, but the book did get the accurate information regarding their prowess of geocraft.

One such magus was Basi Progon, a jewelcraft magus whose proficiency and knowledge of his craft was beyond anything Kiritsugu had encountered before him. Even the Tohsaka's were lacking in their research and knowledge compared to the Progons.

The Magus Killer had, of course, done his research after the job was over. In the mundane world, the House of Progon had existed for only a decade or so as the rulers of some municipality in Albania, but in the magical world, the House of Progon had thrived under a pseudoname of Nogorp as wealthy owners of multiple silver mines.

The information had coincided with both the book and what he had learned personally from Basi; silver was a gem, and one of the more rarer minerals at that. It was cheap compared to diamonds, corundum, or gold -only $8 dollars per troy ounce of silver compared to gold's $400 per troy ounce. At the same time, he had seen more than three or four spells packed into a single ring, and they weren't burnt up or destroyed unlike the gems.

In that way, silver geocraft is infinitely cheaper than any jewelcraft!

... Perhaps he should get Shirou to learn silver geocraft.

* * *

 _This is where Jewelcraft comes in. As the most famous branch of geocraft dealing exclusively with gems, it is the most expansive magecraft that a single magus or a wizard/witch can invest their time and wealth into._

 _The advantage of Jewelcraft, as compared to geocraft, is that the end products of jewelcraft are often times small. Jewelcraft has little in the ways of large rituals as everything is condensed into a single gem. A single gem is more portable and depending on how one carries it, not out of place in the mundane world. A good example of this would be the wedding ring. If several carats of rubies are embedded on the ring, not normal but not rare, then that equates to at least a spell per small ruby that could be anything from a shield to disillusionment to teleport._

 _The disadvantage is that jewelcraft users tend to stick out like a sore thumb. Their personal defense? Jewels. Their artifacts and artifices? Jewels. Their anything? Jewels._

 _In the end, most well-practiced jewlcrafter ends up gaudy and loaded on their persons with too much jewels to not be noticed by everyone, including thieves. Thieves are the second disadvantage of jewelcraft as whether or not a gem has spells in them, they are still gems. It doesn't matter to a thief, because they can sell it. As such, thieves of both mundane and magical tend to love jewelcrafters as the latter tend to leave their jewels all around the house. Unless they are paranoid._

* * *

Kritisugu chuckled. This book was amazing in getting all the details right.

Indeed, of the few jewelcrafters he had known, including the Tohsaka, they had many troubles with trying to not be too noticeable due to their jewels. Basi Progon didn't have much issue with this because he had only two rings, each loaded with three or so spells, so he didn't stand out.

He set the book down.

This book was indeed interesting, and he wondered why the locking mechanism was so simple.

To circumvent it, he had simply asked Shirou to open it for him, and he took the book to read it once opened. After that, it allowed him to open it with his own prick of od. It was odd. It was almost as if it had changed its "opinion" about himself.

From what he remembered with his conversation with the old man, the previous possessor of the tome, the lock was supposed to determine whether or not he was capable of handling what was within the book. So what had changed...?

Kiritsugu sighed as he stood up.

Perhaps he will find out later.

But right now...?

Time to pick up Shirou from his school.


	4. Chapter 4

**Warning: Harry Potter timeline has been MOVED UP. Harry Potter has been born on 1999. So he is currently -as of this chapter- 3 years old. Shirou is currently 10 years old. Also, not everything will be the same in this story. So AU WARNING. Also OOC warning for few characters. Like Cornelius Fudge.**

 **Disclaimer: Applies to all previous and future chapters as well as this one: I do not own the intellectual property of the Type-Moon and J.K. Rowling. I do own anything that is not copyrighted.**

* * *

Kiritsugu had started to take on his job again, except this time, he began to only take assassination mission of those who were tyrants or unrepentant murderers.

Like right now.

He cleaned the blood off of his sawback knife with a spare handkerchief in his gloved hands. "Is this the last of the slave ringers?" he asked his partner for the mission.

The man in question was a spellcaster like him, although he only took this mission because he had a need for cash. He wore a trenchcoat like Kritisugu did during the mission, but had a business suit underneath it. He had black hair that was cropped at the bottom of his square jaws.

"Yeah," the man said as he briefly prayed for each of the souls damned for Hell, and few more for the unfortunate victims who were to go to the Purgatory. "There's no more."

This man's name was Alexander von Aerok, the third son of the famous House of von Aerok of Holstein. A more morally driven spellcaster family engaged in mundane medicine and herbs as well as magical healing, medicine, and herbs, they were one of the most respected Houses around the world for both their charity and selfless devotion to their patients, magus or not.

If anyone wanted to be healed of anything that had even a remote chance of being healed without too much questions being released to the public, then they were the people to contact.

Of course, that would raise the question as to why Alexander was here with Kiritsugu.

This was because Alexander had matrimonially married into one of the British magus family, and the said family had just experienced a financial downturn. Like the selfless von Aerok he was, even without being asked, he went to take on jobs and projects to help his new family.

This was to be his last dirty job, and Kiritsugu knew that the man would regret even taking it in the first place once he was alone.

Alexander was too devout of a Catholic.

Kiritsugu pulled out a cigarette, and offered to Alexander.

Alexander took it, and lit it up. It didn't take long before he began to cough. "*cough* How do you smokers do this?"

"It gets easier."

"Just like the job?" he asked the veteran assassin as he glanced behind him. It was a bloodbath of more than a three dozen slavers of many different colors but primarily white.

"...Just like the job."

* * *

The next morning, the two of them met up with their client at a public cafe named Starbucks.

The client was an old man, retired, and a grandfather of seven.

"...So he didn't make it," he said quietly as his grip tightened. "I should've called you sooner."

Kiritsugu didn't say anything, because he knew the pain of losing a family.

The client had contacted the assassins through an unknown channel -that's how the business like to keep it, even for him. The mission was to bring back his eldest grandson -a child of five- back to him alive for the full reward.

Unfortunately, the slave ringers that had taken the grandchild was not one that kept the "unwanted" commodities alive for long. They had chopped up the kid -along with a dozen more- for their organs. By the time Kiritsugu and Alexander had found the boy, he had been long dead.

At least they sewed the body up and brought it back to the old man.

"W-Was ... Did ...?"

Kiritsugu frowned. "I'm sorry. His heart and liver was already gone by the time we found him. There was no sign of any anesthetics around."

The client let out a quiet sob. "My boy, my boy..."

Alexander looked just about to shed a tear himself as well.

The client's sobs died down eventually, and he sighed. "I'm a World War II and Vietnam War veteran, you see," he began. "I've seen a lot of things. There ... there was always an enemy that I fought against, and I protect my country. But ... to see that the enemy that would harm my family ... was my own countrymen..."

He slid the briefcase.

"$10,000, as promised."

Kiritsugu took the case, opened it, took out five thousand, and handed the rest back to Alexander. The man looked surprised.

"You need it more than I do," he said and stood up. He turned to the client and gave a small bow. "My apologies, sir."

The old man waved it off. "No... It was me who should've called you sooner. Then perhaps I could still see my grandson alive and well."

And that was indeed the truth.

Alexander and Kiritsugu had only found the slave ringers an hour after the boy's death.

"I'll take you to your grandson," Alexander said as he stood up. He gave Kiritsugu a nod before he led their client to a car in an alley.

Kiritsugu watched them go, knowing that the job was over.

"Rest in piece," he said quietly before he left.

* * *

The next morning, Kiritsugu opened his newspaper up to find the bloody end of the slave ringers, a gang by the name of London Harvesters, and the pictures taken at the site.

He drank his coffee as he sat in his new job.

This job was a good pay for easy kill.

A prisoner had escaped the British magical community's prison, the Azkaban. The wanted poster wanted the man either dead or alive. If the man was caught alive, the reward would be three times as great at a total of 1000 galleons. If the man was dead, then the reward would drop to only 300. The reward would be dropping by five thousand dollars.

Kiritsugu frowned.

Azkaban.

Known to all magi and wizards as the most miserable place on the planet. Guarded by perhaps the darkest of the phantasmal beasts, the Dementors, the place literally sucked the happiness out of you until the prisoners were either dead, suicided, or a shell of their former selves.

As much as many hated the place, it served its purpose to warn would-be followers of meglomaniacs of what awaited their eventual end.

Like this man.

The runaway prisoner's name was Leon H. Nott, the youngest brother of the previous Nott family head and a follower of the dead Voldemort, the British Dark Lord. He had committed many heinous crimes that would have made the London Harvesters look tame and cute. Normally, enforcers from the Mage's Association would have run him down for his affairs into the mundane world, but if wizards had anything better than their magus counterpart, it was their ability to cast spells that makes hiding so much easier.

So Kiritsugu watched through his geocraft modified scope.

After learning about the revelation of geocraft, and many knowledge of its intricacies the Obscure Tome had, Kiritsugu had done himself a favor and got a quartz lense. Then he applied a single spell.

"土に接触し人隠さ明らかにする," or "Reveal the hidden who touches the earth."

Taking advantage of the fact that geocraft does not need aria unless he wanted to significantly boost the performance of the ritual, he had embedded within the quartz the ability to show him anyone who was invisible while touching the earth. Of course, it had replaced the normal scope, and thus he could not see anything that did not touch the ground. For example, if the man took off running, he would "fizz" out from the scope for quarter of a second because he would be airborne for that time.

It also had not been a cheap upgrade, having cost him more than half of his od reserves in a single hour. He ended up having to rest an entire week just to recover from that.

But it was worth it, especially when he had to hunt down preys like this stationary wizard.

"Found you," he muttered as he caught the wizard in question.

Then he waited.

And waited.

The bell beneath him rung.

He shot.

* * *

The British Ministry of Magic was a busy place. There were always people coming in and going out. Paperworks being delivered and signed.

Minister for Magic Cornelius Fudge felt ... happy to see all this. There was no one raging at him. There was no one blaming him.

The war was over, and he was now the Minister for Magic.

Things were great, and have been great.

Now, he could get some connection established with the Boy-Who-Lived, even if he had to pay out of his own pockets to tutor the boy of his heritage and the world he saved, it would just be absolutely perfect...

Well, perhaps not.

There have been another prisoner who escaped the iron fist of the Azkaban.

Filthy terrorists ruining his perfect world. One of them was out there.

He didn't like it, but the bastard was good. Leon H. Nott was a man whose specialty under the service of He Who Must Not Be Named was infiltration and stealth. The man knew how to hide, and how to run. He knew how to fight back from the shadows.

Aurors weren't fit nor properly trained to catch a bastard like that, even if he didn't like to admit it.

So imagine his surprise when one of the most infamous men of the magical world walked into the Ministry of Magic.

Kiritsugu Emiya the Magus Killer.

He shuddered.

For Fudge, there were very few people that he did not want to meet in the world, especially not as an enemy.

The man that had just walked in with a unnaturally loud bang of the Floo. Most wizards of the lobby gave him little attention outside of pointing out his muggle attire, but the few who knew of the man, like himself, froze and stayed well out of his way.

'If only we could've hired him for the war,' he thought to himself. Indeed, the war would've been much easier to end had the Magus Killer been on their side.

"Uh, sir?" a woman's voice called through the Office Mirror. "Mr. Emiya is here to turn in a bounty on one Leon H. Nott."

See? Just like that.

Perhaps he should take this chance to call him up and ask if he wanted to work for the Ministry of Magic permanently -.

...

Or...

This man was the Magus Killer. One of the most powerful, if not most knowledgeable, man of the magical world! He worked for anyone who had the right intentions and the right price. And he himself, the British Minister for Magic, had a need for a man like him.

Someone who can train another...

* * *

Kiritsugu wanted to sigh at the dress state of all the wizards in the British Ministry of Magic. While he had to agree with how much things the robes could hide, they were just ...

Too gaudy?

Stands out too much.

And then there's the bloody rainbow.

This was the opposite of what a society whose primary goal was to keep mundanes out of magical affairs. Even if they chose bright colors, it shouldn't be like ... this.

His eyes hurt from just being here.

He walked up to the receptionist. The young woman looked confusedly at him and the stares he was getting. "How may I help you, sir?" she asked him.

"I'm here to turn in a bounty."

The young woman looked surprised. "Oh. Of whom or what, may I ask?" she asked.

"Leon H. Nott."

The receptionist nodded slowly before picking up an Office Mirror. "May I ask your name?"

"Kiritsugu Emiya," he replied, giving his name in the western format.

"Mr. Emiya is here to turn in a bounty on one Leon H. Nott," she spoke into the mirror. There was a few words given, and the woman nodded. "I see. I'll do just that, sir." She put the Office Mirror down, and looked back up to him. "It seems that Minister Fudge wants to talk with you, sir. His office is on the third floor. The elevator is to your left."

He nodded back to her.

He was surprised to hear that the British Minister wanted to see him. And he knew that the man was powerful politically. He could make Kiritsugu life in magical Britain very uncomfortable if he chose to do so. So he knew that meeting the man was probably not something he could skip out on, even if he didn't want to deal with any of the politics the man may deal in.

He made his way to the elevator, and was surprised to see only two people there on this busy day.

"Good morning," the long luscious haired man said.

"Good morning," he returned.

"Good morning," the second man in the elevator added.

The elevator doors shut, and they were moving up, slowly.

"I must confess," the long haired man spoke. "I was surprised to see the Magus Killer in the British Ministry of Magic, Mr. Emiya."

Emiya gave the man a glance, just as the man himself had done. "And you have me at a disadvantage. Who might you be, sir?" he asked.

"I am Lord Malfoy of the Witengamot. And as to my question?"

Lucius Malfoy. The man was a "pureblood" supporter and a "pureblood" himself. From what he remembered, the man claimed that he had been "imperio'ed," and thus avoided being sentenced. Emiya found this unlikely because there had been incidences where the man had been recorded by credible sources as to seeing the man casting the Imperio spell.

Because the funny thing about Imperio was that more a wizard or a magi uses it, more resistant they become, and Lucius Malfoy had been seen quite a lot with imperio casting.

While the man was an important political figure within the British wizarding community, he was nothing outside of it. So scaring him was not unwise. He shrugged. "I was only here to complete a job. Take care of slave ringers in muggle London, find a vampire enclave ad wipe them out, and turn in bounty."

"Oh, and whose bounty is this?"

"Leon H. Nott."

Suddenly, the atmosphere, which had been neutral, chilled, just as he wanted it to.

"I see."

"..." he gave them a polite smile.

 _Ding._

Without another word, Kiritsugu walked out of the elevator and into the third floor of the Ministry. The elevator closed behind him and left in a hurry.

The guard standing outside of the only wooden double doors of the hall nodded to him. "The Minister will see you now," he said and opened the door.

The British Minister for Magic was a average sized man, although he seemed to be more sensible than the rest of the wizarding community because he was wearing a business suit instead of robes, albeit a 1920's business suit, but it was still better than robes.

"Welcome to magical Britain, Mr. Emiya!" the man greeted him. "And thank you for ridding us of one of our problems."

Emiya smiled politely. "It is nice to meet you, Minister Fudge."

Fudge chuckled. "And I you, Mr. Emiya. I have heard a lot of your exploits. In fact, when I was the junior minister for the Department of Magical Law Enforcement when many of your exploits against the law breakers and dark creatures have reached our ears. Especially when the Dark Lord struck, I was very tempted to hire you," he finished with a chuckle.

Now that he thought about it, Kiritsugu did remember spend a lot of time in Europe hunting down Dead Apostles and werewolves who had gone feral upon their neighbors. He only did those jobs because killing a Dead Apostle was no issue and killing a feral werewolf was to save many at the price of one. He didn't think that people would think him highly of that...

"And of course, I have heard much about your hunt of the dark wizards."

Ah yes, the crux of this "intro" perhaps? "I suppose so, Minister. I was only doing my job for the money."

Fudge got a glint in his eyes that Kiritsugu feigned to not notice. "Then perhaps you would be willing to do a job? From me personally?"

And this was the point of why the Minister had wanted to see him, huh?

"Depends on the job description and the reward," he replied professionally as he dropped the polite smile for his professional, emotionless facade.

Fudge straightened his back. "Well, I suppose I can talk some details if you promise to not release information to others unrelated to this...?"

"As long as this does not involve innocent lives."

"Oh, I assure you, it won't be anything like that. In fact, I hope you can train someone in magic."

Kiritsugu blinked. That had not been even close to what he had been expecting. "Who?"

"...Harry Potter."

"...Who?"

"The Boy-Who-Lived, of course!"

"...Pardon me, but who is this boy?"

Fudge looked shocked. "You have never heard of the boy who defeated the Dark Lord as a baby?"

Kiritsugu frowned. The statement was ridiculous. How could a baby defeat a Dark Lord as experienced and knowledgeable as Voldemort? "No, I have not. You must understand that I have been out of the loop for the last five years."

This time, Fudge looked plainly surprised. "Oh?"

It was obviously a sound asking for details, not that Kiritsugu intended to divulge any details of the Holy Grail War to a non-participants like Fudge.

"How do you want me to train him?" he asked. "And for how long?"

"Well, you see ... Mr. Potter is currently three years old."

"..."

"..."

"Wouldn't a babysitter be better for this?"

"Unfortunately, no. Mr. Potter is a celebrity in our world, you see. I can't hire just a random person without affirming their background, and if the Ministry gives his guardianship to anyone within our politics, it would come off as a favoritism whether it was true or not. Nor can I place him in the care of those outside the usual circles of politics, because that would cause people to come back to me to demand assurances."

"Why not a geas contract, then?" Kiritsugu asked. "Ensure that the person who you assign can be trusted."

Fudge looked blank. "I'm sorry, a geas contract? This is the first time I've heard of it."

"You wizards call it magical contract."

"Ah!" Fudge looked enlightened but still downtrodden. "Again, it's unfortunate because his magical guardian, one you would have to sign the contract with, is in prison for betraying his parents."

That would indeed complicate things. It was unlikely the man in question would sign such contract to ensure the safety of Mr. Potter when he had betrayed the Potters already.

He thought about this for a while.

"Why me?"

Fudge fidgeted. "Well, you have to understand that while the Ministry of Magic keeps order and law within our jurisdiction, there are many things out there, dangers you understand, that we cannot always protect the Boy-Who-Lived from. What if the boy is caught alone? We don't even fully trust his temporary guardians in the muggle world. But you, Mr. Emiya, have been known for holding up any contract. You complete them to the finish and sometimes even go beyond the call of duty to cleanse our world of evil and dark. Not only that, you are an expert of both worlds, something that cannot be said about most of those who live in either sides of this world. On top of that, you are powerful. You know a variety of magic that our savior can learn from."

"...You intend to turn him into a shield for your people?"

"It had already been decided for himself when the Dark Lord targeted and died at the boy's hands, Mr. Emiya. Future Dark Lords will target him because it was he who defeated the previous one. People will look up to him. Rather than bring him into our world with a biased guardian and who is may not be good enough of a teacher, I'd rather trust his guardianship to someone like you who have the power, resources, and the right mindset that someone like Mr. Potter will need when he grows up."

... It was a convincing argument. Oh sure, there were some flaws in it, like why the minister would not get someone who wasn't an assassin or why not gather the support of the public to overrule the Witengamot (unlikely as it was). It was still convincing.

"What exactly did you have in mind?"

* * *

Harry was confused. Just until a few hours ago, he had been with his family: the big man, thin woman, and brother(?). He had just eaten dinner by himself when there was a doorbell, and a scary man stood there. Thin woman got very nervous, but it soon turned to relief. She dragged him out of the cupboard and pushed him to the new man.

"He's going to take care of you now, Harry."

And that was it.

He got into a black car with the man, and they went to ... somewhere. They got off, and the man held his hand as they entered somewhere new that stank and into a bright alley. There were a lot of things in here.

But the man took him straight to where short people with long nose and ears were.

The new man then pricked his finger and then his own unto a paper. After a few words that he didn't understand, they were out of there, back into a car, and ... big metal birds?

* * *

 _ **Wizards and Magi**_  
 _ **How do they differ in their behavior, spells, and magecraft?**_  
 _ **by Nicholas Flamel**_

 _As an alchemist, I am someone who blurs the line between magi and wizards. Wizards mystify my profession due to my accomplishments, and magi dislike me because I am not revealing my secrets._

 _They are essentially the same group of people. They are both humans, and both use magic, yet they defer so much. Why is this so?_

 _Well, in the case of wizards, I must say that while they are less driven, they are also more pleasant. Unlike magi, they do not have the impending "doom" that is the "downfall of magecraft." I personally think that's a load of bullshit because there has been no real concrete evidence to say such, and I will go deeper into this point later._

 _Because the wizards can relax and need not worry about having to transfer magic circuits or the like as lineages of magi families do, all they need to ensure is that their treasured knowledge in books and artifacts need to be safe, something very easily done. With that out of the way, wizards are free to enjoy the world as they like._

 _Individual wizarding spells as opposed to magecraft do not decline when more wizards use them. No, in fact, one can say that it grows stronger because people find new ways to improve the spell and teach others without the reservation of keeping such advancement to themselves as magi do. There have been cases where effects of spells have decreased because desolation of a generation had resulted in the generation's inability to pass down precious knowledge to the previous generation. So for wizards, they have a positive gain with some losses in times of war and disasters, but this is true for any knowledge. Should one of those dreaded muggle's "nuclear war" occur and "nuclear fallout" happen following that war, most of humanity will have died from radiation and such. Knowledge will be lost in droves to the point that people may not even remember what life was like before the war. This is the only reason why magic for the wizards would decline, and it has never been so except with each rise of "dark lords" that wipe out a percentage of the wizarding population. Even then, wizards have the luxury of being composed of large communities scattered throughout the globe. In magical Britain alone, there are twelve settlements containing up to a total of a million wizards._

 _Compared to wizards, British magi population are in the low thousands._

 _Magi have been known since after Merlin's time, to covet knowledge and to hoard it like a dragon hoarding its treasure. This stems from their belief that their magecraft will become diminished when more and more people learn. Of course, magi did not come to believe this because of some superstition. No, they have tested, and have come to this conclusion because with each generation passing the magecraft on, there have been observable diminishing effects of the magecraft in question._

 _I discredit this observation on the basis that most families often forget to include in their observation changes in the next generation's elements and origins, both of which are crucial to both wizards and magi in their casting of spells and magecraft. Einzberns, for example, have the luck of the entire European magi family in possessing a lineage of magi who have been primarily Earth element. There are too many magi families who have not had such luck, and there are even more who have abandoned their ancestor's magecraft due to being unfit for its requirements for centuries._

 _Back on to the topic, magi and wizards are different not because of how they cast their spells or what they possess (core or circuit) to use their spells and magecraft, but because they grew up differently._

 _Yup._

 _That's it._

 _Because of culture._


	5. Chapter 5

Shirou stared at the boy that his dad had brought in.

"Shirou, this is Harry. He'll be your little brother now," Kiritsugu said as he knelt down to his eye level. "You have to take care of him when I'm not here, alright?"

He nodded. "Of course, I will!" he promised with a grin.

Harry was a scrawny kid. He wore a black t-shirt and a black pair of pants, probably what dad bought him, and had a zig-zag scar on his forehead. His hair was a mess, but it wasn't bad as dad's spiky mess.

He grinned. "Let's get along, Hari!"

The boy looked at him with a pair of confused eyes.

"Oh right. He doesn't understand Japanese."

"...Huh? He's not from around here?"

"No. He's from Britain."

Shirou looked at his dad with a frown. "And you didn't get me any present?"

"...Where did you learn that from?"

"Taiga Onee-chan!"

"I see..." With that, he stood up. "Well, it's dinner time so -"

Shirou disappeared from where he had been standing and was in the kitchen the next second. "I'll cook!" he nearly shouted as he feverishly got to work.

He loved his dad really. But he couldn't cook to save his life.

* * *

From that day on, Harry became part of the Emiya family without any rough transition. Both Kiritsugu and Shirou's quick acceptance also did Harry's stunted confidence some good.

With Harry in the house to teach and protect, Kiritsugu took fewer jobs and certainly did not take any outside the country. He also did more detective work, and due to his cold demeanor along with a successful career, people began to call him the Frozen Eyes, because no criminal got away once he set his line of sight upon them.

Shirou, on the other hand, began to advance his own Blood Magic. He read more bits of Blood Magic from the Obscure Tome. His father did encourage him to branch out as well, and so Shirou did so by reading more of the Obscure Tome. He wasn't interested in geocraft as his father was, however. Regardless of Shirou's interests, Kiritsugu approved of Shirou's willingness to learn more.

While this happened, Harry learned Japanese at a pace any three-year child would learn at. He didn't even have a complete grasp of English, most likely due to indifference in part of the mundane guardians, so learning Japanese was not hampered by another language.

Less than half a year after his adoption into the family, so he was now Emiya Harry, Kiritsugu enrolled Harry into the local kindergarten. During the day, Harry would spend his time there, mingling with his peers, and during the afternoon and the night, Kiritsugu taught both of them about magical cultures. He took great care in going into depth about the European and the Asian magical cultures. He spoke of the Mage's Association (which was disapproved by both of his adopted children), the Austrian Academy of Higher Magic, the Australian Plateau of Shamanism, the Norther American Yale University of Underworld, Han School of Power and Magic, Manchurian Temple of Mysteries, Japan's own Mountain Temple of Magic (situated deep within Mt. Fuji), Koreans... no one knew about them.

Kiritsugu actually had a lot of fun explaining the "Korean situation" to his children.

Koreans were ... odd. The mundane Koreans were normal enough, but the magicals of the Korean Peninsula were hard to come by on a good day. In fact, since the failed Chinese invasion of the Korean Peninsula half a century ago, only seven Koreans had been met by outsiders. All of them were also diplomats.

They possessed the most prana-dense ley line in East Asia.

They possessed a national shield system against invaders.

And yet ... they were quiet, hidden, and passive. When other magi or wizards would have used those advantages to expanding their influence, Koreans sat in their own peninsula doing something that no one knew about.

The boys loved the mystery. After all, Koreans were their national neighbors, and history has shown that from early times, magical Korea had been the big brother to the budding mundane and magical Japan even before the Han dynasty. A pity that the mundane Japanese didn't share because of few recent history with superficial power.

But what got the attention of the boys was that Kiritsugu himself had met one of those Koreans.

While the woman hadn't been powerful like some of the magi of the Mage's Association, she had been knowledgeable. Her name was Suh Nah'rin, and she was a blood magician.


	6. Chapter 6

"Why can't I go to Hogwarts with Hari?" he complained to Kiritsugu.

They were in their backyard where Kiritsugu had been training Shirou on the boy's swordfighting. Unfortunately for Shirou, Kiritsugu was not a swordsman himself, so he did the next best thing; he provided Shirou with opponents that he might face. Kiritsugu used everything from martial arts to a small switch knife to pellet pistols to pellet rifles.

This form of his training had been ongoing for the past seven months.

It was hard for Shirou because, more often than not, Kiritsugu did not pull his punches during their spar.

Today, though, he had done decently well against what Kiritsugu had called an average law enforcer of the "European Wizard Communities." Shirou had expected something close to Enforcers of the Mage's Association, Executors of the Church, or Dragons of the Magical Chinese Imperial Military (MCIM).

Enforcers were powerful, even by magi standards. They were more often than not lethal and were masters of their chosen magecraft. They were knowledgeable about many cultures and martial arts as well as general magecraft. Coupled with their mastery, they were hard to counter or fight.

Executors were fanatical. They were monstrous in their faith and destructive of anything "heretical" they came across.

The Dragons were just destructive. They had no allegiance but to their Emperor of Magical China. They wielded magecraft in broad daylight because as far as the Chinese were concerned, magecraft did not lose their efficiency when mundane or other magi learned of their magecraft. Whether or not this was true remained to be seen, but this allowed the Dragons to do as they pleased. It was normal for Dragons to leave behind a property damage ranging in the millions of dollars with any operation.

So when Shirou heard that he was going to be fighting an average wizard enforcer, he readied himself for a beating.

...

It had been unnecessary.

He disarmed Kiritsugu within ten seconds of the beginning.

When asked why Kiritsugu held back, the answer Shirou received had been that most wizards are not capable of fighting on the level of Enforcers, Dragons, or Executors. Only the ones by the title of "Unspeakable" were capable of such feat.

Shirou had never been so disappointed.

He asked his father why Hari had to go to that school where combat was apparently a low priority, Kiritsugu replied that it was because of a promise.

Which led to Shirou attempting to persuade his father to let him attend Hogwarts so that he could protect his little brother.

Kiritsugu's obvious answer had been a "no."

From Kiritsugu's perspective, Shirou was not only an eyesore to the Mage's Association for who he was connected to but also a blatant violation of their own rules -the very same rules that international Enforcement Agencies do not acknowledge. Allowing Shirou to go to Hogwarts was like delivering a test subject to the Mage's Association on a silver plate not only due to Shirou's status and magecraft but also because of British Wizarding Community's lack of proper security.

"And I'm telling you that it'll be dangerous not only for you but also your brother if you go. Mage's Association is becoming more and more violent against those not of them. You are neither British magical nor of the Mage's Association, so they will kidnap and experiment on you without a fuss raised," Kiritsugu retorted. "I've already said it three times, Shirou. I am not going to repeat it. You are not going to Hogwarts."

"Then who's going to protect Harry?"

"Himself."

"...Huh?"

Kiritsugu sighed.

"Shirou, are you an immortal?"

"Of course not, dad."

"Are you the most powerful being on this planet?"

"No. Doesn't that title belong to ...uh... that True Ancestor thingy?"

"Yes, it does. So then if you are neither the most powerful nor an immortal, how do you intend to protect Harry?"

"I don't need to be!" Shirou huffed with the indignation of a ten-year-old, which he was. "It's not like really strong guys will be after him, anyway!"

Kiritsugu patted his son's head. "The point is, Shirou, that you cannot protect Hari forever. He has to be able to defend himself eventually."

Shirou pouted and crossed his arms, looking away.

Kiritsugu chuckled. "Let's invite Taiga for dinner. I'm sure that she'll love to come over."

Shirou groaned, instantly relaxing at the mention of having Taiga over. "She'll bleed us dry with how much she eats..."

* * *

On the other side of the world, the Wizarding Europe was in an uproar. Specifically, this uproar was happening inside British Wizarding World.

This was not about Harry Potter, however.

For one to understand the current situation of Great Britain's Wizarding World, one must also understand some recent history.

In 1985, a wizard of unknown heritage and nationality rose up in British Wizard World. He called himself Lord Voldemort and gathered a small army's worth of men and women who swore by the Pureblood Doctrine. The original purpose of this Doctrine was for the Wizarding World to abolish the International Statue of Secrecy and declare war upon the Muggles, or as most magicals call them, the mundane or the non-magical. The belief that wizards should be out in the open drew many to his cause, poor or rich, dumb or smart, or weak or powerful.

Lord Voldemort, however, was not stupid.

He had seen the horrors of Vietnam War, Korean War, and the most tragic World War II. He believed that the muggles would never accept the fact that there were people among them who could bend reality to their will. He knew that an outright war on muggles would only end with the decimation and perhaps a loss of freedom for the magicals.

But the magicals would stand a chance if they were to gather _all_ of the magicals together.

Wizards were horrified by his declaration of war against his first target, the Wizarding Clans of Ireland. With a force of a thousand wizards, he swept through Ireland's magical communities like the reaper's scythe. It took him just a shy of a month to clean Ireland of any dissenters and take over the government.

Two weeks after that, he sent his agents and soldiers to infiltrate Britain. Once they were deep inside, they recruited followers from many reaches of life except muggleborns. Voldemort had to appease the purebloods and half-bloods, who made up the majority of his forces, by choosing to not recruit muggleborns.

Then when he had gathered sufficient number, he sent his British recruits to raise hell from within.

Unlike Ireland, however, British wizards were ready for Voldemort.

Dumbledore and his Order of Phoenix had been expecting them. With a hundred wizard strong group, Dumbledore held off the terrorists from doing too much damage before other organizations rose up to fight Voldemort and his followers.

But with no formal declaration of war, British wizards had to fight an unofficial war that the government could not interfere outside of "capturing terrorists." It also did not help that there were elements in the government itself who wanted Voldemort to succeed.

Voldemort was then felled by a child of the Potters after more than a decade of this war.

This is where the British wizards were.

In main island Britain, the British were tired from the war that no one had helped them. Families were torn apart. Brothers and sisters had killed each other. Government had lost the trust of the people.

In Ireland, the supporters of Voldemort were overthrown in a violent coup that had seen those supporters executed in the messiest way possible. The coup had even lead to more loss of lives. By the end of the coup, there were less than 65% of the original population remaining from pre-Voldemort times.

People were afraid and rightfully so. The traumas of the war had shaken the foundation of the peaceful society of British wizards too much.

They were falling apart.

Wizards concentrating in Scotland and Wales had declared independence. The Witengamot was powerless to stop them with no powerful military to back them up. Amelia Bones, the Director of the DMLE, refused to turn the wands of her aurors against the independence movement wizards on ground that neither a formal war had been declared and that her aurors existed as a peacekeeping force for English specific territory as designated by the Department of Magical Law Enforcement's Founding Charter.

Many pureblood nobles who had varying interests in those areas were crying out for action while the wizards and witches in Wales and Scotland were cheering for the Ministry's inaction.

Then just a few months after Fudge had convinced Emiya to adopt the Boy-Who-Lived, one of his Undersecretaries pulled the trigger.

Undersecretary Umbridge used Avada Kadabra on a Welsh muggleborn wizard in Diagon Alley. In public.

The new Magical Republic of Wales demanded the head of the Undersecretary, and Fudge had agreed. However, dissenters within the Witengamot overruled him and then ousted him from office on grounds that Fudge did not care for his own country's citizen.

At the same time, the Magical Council of Scotland, composed of seven Noble Houses and few _muggle_ Noble Houses, declared Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry to be of their new magical nation's school and that all British students must pay an additional 100 galleons, which was about $500.

Dumbledore and his staffs declared themselves neutral on all conflict stating that he was the Headmaster of Hogwarts before he dipped his hands in wizarding politics and as such, his concerns for his school and its student comes before anything else. He also refused to allow the Magical Council of Scotland to tax his school. He went far as to declare that should the Magical Council of Scotland tax his school, he'll be the first to raise his wand to kick them out of Hogwart's grounds, which encompassed a valley and few more lands surrounding the valley.

And those were just the major fiasco. It did not even cover the foreign wizarding communities and nations' reaction to the events within Great Britain's Wizarding World.

Minerva McGonagall wondered how everything had descended so fast. She had believed that everything would settle down once the Dark Lord had been vanquished, but it hadn't been so. Many of her students, Gryffindor or not, had told her of their concern for the destabilizing world around them. She didn't give them the usual assurances of an adult that everything will be fine. Instead, she told them that she too was concerned and assured them that as long as they were in Hogwarts, they had nothing to fear or worry about the outside world.

She sat in her office working on her paperwork.

She frowned.

Paperwork.

The world around them was falling apart, but apparently, paperwork still took precedence.

She shook her head in exasperation. Indeed, the world was mad.

Then she found something odd among the paperwork. Instead of the usual parchment, she found what the muggleborns called a "printing paper." Curiosity got the better of her (she was a cat, after all), and pulled it out. She read through the words printed on it and became progressively pale.

"ALBUS!"

Perhaps paperwork was okay as long as it brought her urgent news like this.

* * *

Back in Emiya Manor, Harry was having fun playing with his new toys. They were so cool and made clinking sounds!

"Hari, those are not toys."

They so were!

Hari pouted as he obediently floated the toys back to Kiritsugu, who took weapons from Hari and neatly stacked them back on the wooden racks. He then lifted the pouting Hari up and carried him out of Shirou's workshop, wondering how Hari had got in there in the first place.

* * *

 **Merry Christmas!**  
 **eventhoughIreallydon'tdoanythingduringitoutsideofgoingtochurchandeatwithfamily**

 **What do you guys do during Christmas? Tell me about it with a PM or a review! Preferably a review.**

* * *

 **Omake**

Harry stared at the fat man that broke into his home.

The man in question looked back down at Harry with a smile on his face. "Hello there, little one," he said as he ruffled Harry's hair. "You must be one of the wizard folks. How did you end up here with magi?" He really didn't expect a response from a kid that looked less than three years old. He was more confused than anything because the kid should be sleeping from his sleigh's Area-of-Effect, heavy sleeping enchantment.

"Bad jiji," Harry replied in Japanese before he -.

-Screamed.

Immediately, Shirou and Kiritsugu were out of their room with their weapons drawn and on the startled, red and white coated fat man.


	7. Chapter 7

Kiritsugu glared at the Einzbern Castle of the Black Forest in a picture he held.

He knew that his daughter was within the castle, but he possessed neither the power nor the knowledge necessary to rescue his daughter. He was an ex-mercenary that had broken his contract. He had no allies nor favors he could call up. The Einzberns, on the other hand, were powerful magus lineage in possession of companies of homunculi. The worst of those homunculi were worth a 100 mediocore magi. Even if Kiritsugu was known as the Magus Killer, he was in no shape to fight a whole company of such monsters. Not without back up.

He had tried a lot of things. He had tried to kidnap Ilya on her walk (he was stopped by the same homunculi he was now very wary of), he had tried to bomb the castle (less said, the better), and he had even tried to kill Jubstacheit with a sniper rifle. Kidnapping attempt was the closest to which Kiritsugu had succeeded.

But the old man of the Einzberns have had been prepared for him.

He sighed as he set the picture of his daughter and deceased wife down on the desk. He had a job to do.

"Tou-san, why can't nii-san go to school with me?" Hari whined.

"He'll face bigger danger than you will over there, Hari," he replied easily. It was the answer he had been giving them for the past seven years after all.

Let it not be said that his two adopted children were obedient.

They were stubborn to the point of death. In fact, they were so stubborn that over the course of seven years - _SEVEN_ _WHOLE YEARS_ \- they have been begging him to put them in the same magical school.

After Hari hit the age of 9, he had done his best to explain.

'There are bad men in the world, Hari, Shirou. They will do horrible things to you. If you go to England, where many of them are, you especially will have a hard time living because you have to secret yourself a lot.'

Not the best explanation, but he did his best from then on. He didn't see the point of hiding the truth from his children, even if hiding the truth could help the two children keep their innocence a bit longer.

...No, it was best they knew of the dangers they had to hide from. Hari from the magical terrorists of British Wizarding World and Shirou from the ruthless, cold, and monstrous magi of the Mage's Association. He made sure to tell them that every single time they asked him the Question.

He shuddered a bit after Hari left his office with a pout on his face. He just knew that their stubbornness was going to create chaos in the near future.

With all of his paperwork done, Kiritsugu stood up and stretched his limbs.

In the past five years, a lot of things had changed for him and his children.

For one, he had been offered a job as a combat instructor for the Japanese Department of Magical Law & Order. They offered him plenty of salary to make it very tempting for the mercenary. He had to admit that the money was a factor in his decision to settle down from his mercenary life, but in the end, what swayed his choice had been what he thought was best of Shirou and Hari.

Both of them needed him in their life, even if they smiled to him as he left for his mercenary jobs across the world. They needed him to stay near them to provide even a smidgen of support.

The paperwork, however, was a workload he had not asked for.

He sipped his coffee with a frown.

Most of his paperwork had to do with daily assessment of the trainees working under him as well as their psych evaluation from his perspective.

For example, Minamoto Yagushi was a Japanese magical police trainee (Japanese called the fully trained, magical police officers as yuushi) who was improving steadily. From a muscle mass of a shut-in (Yagushi had been an otaku until his mother, the current Minister of Japanese DMLO, forced conscripted him) to a lean athlete. It helped that unlike other instructors, Kiritsugu had not been lenient with him despite the connections the boy had and trained him to kingdom come on everything from exercising to etiquette.

Unfortunately, despite the fact that everyone knew that the boy was improving, Kiritsugu had the bureaucratic obligation to write the daily report for each and every trainee under him with a minimal two hundreds words.

For the Emiya Clan head, this meant that he had to write a daily report for a hundred people, making his total daily word count to be twenty thousand words whether or not all trainees participated in daily training.

It took him two to three hours each day just for the paperwork.

He sipped his coffee again and then slid the reports into an envelope to submit as he left the office.

"Dad, Shirou got into a fight again!" Hari tattled as he ran into the office.

Kiritsugu sighed.

Shirou was a boy. One should expect boys to fight. It was the natural order of things. To deny such a simple fact spoke low of their perception of reality.

But Shirou? The boy got into fights every single day. It wasn't even with one student but multiple students.

Of course, he knew why Shirou got into those fights. Most of the time, the children being introduced to Shirou's fists were arrogant bullies at his school.

Again, unfortunately for him, because Shirou's fights usually involved bruises and broken bones from both sides, most of these fights ended up dragging the adults into it as well.

It was terribly bothersome to deal with the adults, especially those that supported the same "pure blood doctrine" as those in England or the lineage crazed magus families.

"Hari, shouldn't you be with the others?"

By others, he meant other kids in the recreational room.

Hari shook his head. "I wanna go home and read the book!"

The book meaning the Obscure Tome.

Kiritsugu sighed.

As soon as Hari was able to read, he had been absorbed by the Obscure Tome. Kiritsugu had hid it, locked it, and outright forbid Hari from reading it, but it always found itself in Hari's hand. Eventually, he relented when Hari began to cry too much. He actually feared that Hari had been ensnared or possessed by the book, so he had an acquaintance of his to check out the book for traps or anything of the kind.

It came up negative.

So for next seven years, Hari was always seen reading the Tome whenever he had free time. For some reason, though, Hari did nothing with the magecraft, magic, rituals, or knowledge contained within it. Whereas Shirou immediately found a magecraft -or was he supposed to call Blood Magic just magic?- that he found use for immediately, Hari still searched.

It was as if Hari was looking for something.

Hari pouted. "Let's go home already!" he whined again.

Kiritsugu nodded. "After we pick up Shirou."

* * *

As soon as they were inside the main gate, Hari took off running towards his room where the Obscure Tome lay waiting for him. "Take your shoes off, Hari!" Kiritsugu called after the boy.

"I will!"

Shirou sighed. "I get that the book is amazing, how does Hari read that thing everyday?"

Kiritsugu raised an eyebrow. "I'd like to ask the same thing. When will you hold back?"

His eldest son froze for a bit. "Uh... They started it by punching me." He gave his son another deadpan stare. "Really."

"Shirou. I've trained you. I know how strong you are even without your Blood Magic or the three spells," he told his son. "You could've easily dodged his punch if you want to, and don't say you couldn't. What brought this fight about?"

Shirou kicked a rock at his feet. "They were bothering Rin."

Kiritsugu frowned.

Tohsaka Rin, daughter of the deceased Tohsaka Tokiomi. Kiritsugu held nothing against her. He just considered her to be a sad orphan who lost both of her parents in the Holy Grail War.

But what did get him interested in her was her friendship with Shirou.

They met in the elementary school and went to the same middle school. However, when time came for them to enter high school, Shirou received an invitation to join the Old Kyoto Castle of Magic, the Hogwarts equivalent in Japan but only for four years and also only for the rich, prestigious, and genius. Shirou decided that if he were to protect Hari, he would have to learn more about the magical world and deemed that learning about the magical world, or the moonlit world, from the source was the best thing for him to do.

Apparently, after Shirou's acceptance into the Old Kyoto Castle of Magic, she had somehow gotten herself into the school as well; Kiritsugu assumed that she received an invitation to join the school as well. Unfortunately, due to her magus heritage, she -just like Shirou- received hostility from the pure blood wizards of Japan. As the only two magi in the wizard academy, Rin and Shirou became close friends.

So if Rin was being bothered or even bullied...

"You made sure they understood, yes?"

Shirou grinned. "Of course."

"Good. Now run along. I'm sure you want to practice your own craft before you have to prepare dinner."

* * *

Shirou, the cook of the house, announced dinner and everyone in the house came running for their meal.

Kiritsugu appeared without his coat, as Shirou demanded, but Hari had appeared with the Tome.

Shirou and Kiritsugu both stopped, because they were shocked.

Why?

Hari was holding the book, but the book was not open.

"Hari?" Shirou called his little brother gently.

Hari looked up with a frown on his face. "Tou-san, what's happening?"

"Hari?" This time, Kiritsugu responded. "What's wrong?"

Hari, instead, sniffed a little. "The book told me to tell you."

Kiritsugu's eyes widened as a small red light flashed on the back of the right hands of all three individuals.

"It said a war was coming. What's happening, tou-san?"

Kiritsugu silently turned his hand around and glared at the cross-shaped command seal tattoo.

Holy Grail War had come.

* * *

 _Magical Schools around the World_  
 _by Uri Golovin - 1421_  
 _Edited by Sarah von Aerok_

 _I have traveled from one end of the Silk Road to the other. I have seen the Santa Maria in Trastevere in Rome, Hagia Sophia in Constantinople, Goharshad Mosque in Mashhad, Kamakhya in Guwahati, and so much more..._

 _But my focus, my dear friends, are not the temples, but the schools of our world. The Moonlit World._

 _I must confess that I was always more wizard than a magi, even if that is not what my family wanted. Alas, I am too free a soul to lay my life down in a workshop reaching for a dream that was and will never be mine._

 _It is exactly because of that reason that I traveled, and found in my travels many magical schools that had been built over the various eras._

 _I have seen Hogwarts, one of the finest magical schools this world has to offer. I have also seen the Delhi Sultanate's Balban Temple of Magic as well as the School of Magic in Nanjing. I have learned from the teachers of those schools, and have learned a great deal of magic. In fact, I have learned so much that the magicians, wizards, and witches of the east call me "the Western Scholar."_

 _At the same time, I must rank these schools from what I have seen. The schools I have already listed and few others more are what I could only consider as the Elite. There are many subjects they offer to their students that no normal magical school could do._

 _(Editor's Note: It must be noted that the Balban's Temple of Magic no longer exists due to civil war that occured around the early 1800's within the Indian Wizarding World)._

 _..._

* * *

 **Happy New Years, readers**.


	8. Chapter 8

**So as I am writing this, I must report to you readers and other lots that reviews cannot be seen.**

 **Bummer me, eh? I can't respond because I don't know what you reviewed to me. This goes for my other stories as well.**

 **I am hoping the server admins are working on it and have it fixed by the time I publish this chapter of Obscure Tome, but eh, it may not be. With that in mind, still review about what you thought about this chapter and what I could improve on.**

 **Cheers.**

 **Also, I fixed the Prince issue for Vlad. Thank you all for pointing that out.**

 **Again, Cheers**

* * *

The first thing Kiritsugu did was to secure the perimeter of his manor by checking on the bounded field. He didn't need to move from his seat on the table to do so, so he didn't. Instead, he told Shirou and Harry to sit.

Shirou went to the back of the kitchen to turn off the fire and close the lid on the stew pot. He came back and sat down. "What's going on, tou-san?" he asked Kiritsugu.

Kiritsugu was still making sure the bounded field around his house was up and tight when Shirou asked. He didn't respond for a moment before he closed his eyes and sighed.

"It is as Harry said: the Holy Grail War has returned."

There was a bit of silence before Harry spoke. "What is the Holy Grail War?"

Shirou looked at his younger brother. 'Weren't you the one who warned us earlier?' he thought to himself.

Kiritsugu spoke up. "I will explain what it is about, but I need you two to hold off your questions until the very end and to not interrupt me. Is that understood?"

The two boys nodded.

"Good. Then, you must understand its history. The Holy Grail War was concocted between three magus families as a means to return the lost Third Magic, the Heaven's Feel, back to the Einzberns. To do this, they devised a ritual to take place somewhere away from war-ridden Europe.

"The Tohsaka provided this very city, which they owned and still do; the Einzberns provided their alchemy and the vessels for the War itself, and the Matou assembled all of the starting materials and made the needed magecraft. One such magecraft is now on the back of your hands. Those are your Command Spells."

Shirou looked down at his right hand.

There was now a weird shape there. It was a black and held a MMORPG sword look to it.

Harry looked at his Command Spells. It looked like three very simplistic snakes eating each others' tail to form a circle.

Kiritsugu looked down sadly at his Command Spells. They looked the same.

"There are now five Holy Grail Wars with the current one being the fifth. In the third Grail War, however the Einzberns attempted to cheat, but in their attempt to do so, they corrupted the Holy Grail. Now, it cannot offer any wish to any participants without causing massive destruction." He turned to Shirou. "Shirou. The Fire was caused by the last Holy Grail War."

Shirou snapped his head up with a stunned look.

"I attempted to destroy the Grail, but it seems that it didn't work," Kiritsugu sighed. "But we three are now part of this war. This means that you have to fight in this war for our survival," he continued. "To do so, we have to summon our Servants."

There was a silence before Shirou stood up and walked back into the kitchen. "Dinner first, then," he said calmly, even if his head was spinning and felt dizzy from the revelation he just heard.

* * *

Kiritsugu put the two boys to bed before he dug out his stash of extra strong sake.

His mind was a racing field for his thoughts even as he calmly poured himself a cup.

Why was the Holy Grail War back so early? Was it not supposed to start every fifty or sixty years? What changed?

And to top it off, his two boys were now in this mess.

His eyes hardened.

He downed the sake in one shot before he pulled out his phone.

It was time to get some help.

* * *

To their surprise, it was Harry who summons the Servant first.

The catalyst for the Summoning?

The Obscure Tome, of course!

The boy hadn't even been awake when he did it. In fact, the Summoning itself had been a mistake.

The Servant who was summoned was never so mollified to hear that he had been summoned by a sleeping child.

"God hates me," he muttered to himself.

Harry patted the Servant's back. "There, there. It's okay, mister. I didn't mean to summon you either."

"That makes it worse."

Kiritsugu watched the Servant with a raised eyebrow. Was this usually how Servants reacted to their summoning? His own summoning had been ... formal like a knight being acquitted with a king. Perhaps that had just been Arturia.

He flinched as he remembered.

The servant in front of him called himself Servant Lancer.

If Saber was not taken, then he would summon _her_ again. And then he would have to explain.

He did not look forward to that.

"What's your name anyway, Mister?"

The man immediately stood up before kneeling before Harry. "Name is Vlad III, and I am at your service, milord."

Kiritsugu tried to think of where he might have heard that name. He couldn't. Perhaps the internet could help him...

"Oh. What were you in life?" Harry asked innocently.

Despite the fact that all Servants knew that exposing their identity to other people other than their master was not a smart move, the man didn't seem to mind. "I was the Prince of Wallachia."

The other three occupants of the living room just stared at him.

Kiritsugu shrugged. "I had King Arthur as my Servant in the last war."

This time, the other three stared at him.

"Really?! You met the legendary King Arthur-?!" Vlad began, only to be stopped by Kiritsugu.

"Let me correct that statement. _Queen_ Arturia was my servant."

Vlad froze, paled, and then slumped. "My hero was a lady..." he muttered depressingly. "And I didn't even reach up to her level." Then he perked up with a grin. "I did hold off my invaders, so at least we can trade notes about that."

Harry patted the Heroic Spirit on the back. "I'm sure she'll be excited too."

Kiritsugu didn't think so.

* * *

Kiritsugu was flabbergested. "How did you summon your Servant, Shirou?"

"I asked Harry."

Kiritsugu did not even attempt to delve deeper than that. Anything that was involved with Harry and his Tome was a disaster waiting to happen, like the Washing Machine Fiasco of 2005.

"And did Shirou explain our situation?" he asked the Servant.

 _Swing_

The woman nodded. "The Grail has been corrupted, so it must be destroyed. My master, you, and his young brother are allies in this."

 _Swing_

"Yes, that is the gist," Kiritsugu replied. "But can you do something about ... _that_ before you knock something over?"

"This?" the woman pulled _it_ between her bountiful mounds, causing the still teenager Shirou to blush.

The Servant Caster in front of them was Tamano-no-Mae, the infamous courtesan of the Imperial Court of the Heian Era.

Also the world record holder for murder. She did kill over eighty thousand people with her magic and hands in one sitting.

'That's now two murderers in the house,' Kiritsugu thought. 'Three including me.'

 _Swish_

"Yes. That."

Now, Kiritsugu had trained himself before his time with his children to cut off emotions. It was necessary for him to do so to walk the Path of Asura. However, the emergence of the Holy Grail War, the eccentricity of both his children and their Servants, and the impending beating from Saber looming over in his head was messing with his control over emotion.

It didn't help that Tamano had already knocked over a vase gifted to his family by the local yakuza.

"Fine," Tamano said. With a pop, both her ears and her tail disappeared. "By the way, I intend to marry Master."

See? The world wanted to break him today.

* * *

And at long last, it was time for his own Summoning.

He gulped.

The stress of the last two days were not easy.

Vlad III was acted like a sociopath and needed a full day to be educated as to what was socially norm and what wasn't. Vlad was also inconsolable after hearing about what his name had become. More specifically, the Count Dracula shit. He mourned over the Grail's inability to grant wishes really, _really_ loudly.

Tamano was worse in some ways. Apparently, she knew exactly who she was and what she was: a facet of the Shinto goddess of the sun, Amaterasu. And she still wanted to marry Shirou because "he was filled with goodness" and that she loved him for it. Shirou was a blushing the entire day. He still probably was.

He tried to dissuade her, but found that to be physically harmful. He tried to reason with her by stating that when the Holy Grail War was over, she'll be gone. Her counter: she was a living goddess and thus was not limited in her abilities as the other Servants.

He didn't understand how a person fell in love so quickly.

And now, it was time.

Avalon lay before him in the ritual circle. Time was right.

He sighed.

"Let's get this over with," he growled halfheartedly and lifted his hand up.

"Silver and iron to the origin. Gem and the archduke of contracts to the cornerstone. The ancestor is my great master Schweinorg.  
The alighted wind becomes a wall. The gates in the four directions close, coming from the crown, the three-forked road that leads to the kingdom circulate.  
Shut (fill). Shut (fill). Shut (fill). Shut (fill). Shut (fill).  
Repeat every five times.  
Simply, shatter once filled.  
――――I announce.  
Your self is under me, my fate(doom) is in your sword.  
In accordance with the approach of the Holy Grail, if you abide by this feeling, this reason, then answer.  
Here is my oath. I am the one who becomes all the good of the world of the dead, I am the one who lays out all the evil of the world of the dead.  
You, seven heavens clad in three words of power, arrive from the ring of deterrence, O keeper of the balance ―――!"

A blinding light filled the room. Kiritsugu averted his eyes.

...

Then it was gone.

"Are you m- Kiritsugu!"

Yup.

"You have a minute before I slice your skull in half."

* * *

Arturia was in the same state as Vlad III on his first day.

Inconsolable except when Shirou was cooking.

* * *

Elsewhere in the city, the other chosen of the Holy Grail War were summoning their Servants.

* * *

 **Vlad III is the Lancer of Black, not from EXTRA.**

* * *

 **I know, a bit short compared to this story's usual chapters. But eh, this was what came out after a few days worth of work working only on this. Don't underestimate few days. When I mean few days, I mean several hours per day for few days.**


	9. Chapter 9

**So reviews systems are still down. Eh. Last time it happened (2014), it took about a month. I guess I'll chill. But still, if you still want to review to me so that I see it on time, you can always PM me.**

 **Now then, DISCLAIMER: I own nothing but information I conjure up. Magi rus di Forum does not exist.**

* * *

 _Spirits. What are they to us humans?_

 _To the religious, they are gods and demons, and it has been this way for thousands of years._

 _To the scientists and magicians, they are the power that is out of their reach. They are materials that have been deemed uncontrollable, and they have come to hate their inability to control the spirits._

 _To those who don't care, spirits are just dicks._

 _But what is a spirit, rather than what it means to humans?_

 _Magicians will say that spirits are the culmination of elements of nature brought together into spiritual bodies by the will of the planet itself. Most of these spirits are harmless, but there exists a "caste" of spirits that possess the very power of nature at their fingertips. These spirits are nothing but an opposing force to humanity's survival. Spirits, according to magicians, wizards, and their kin, are powerful creatures of nature that seeks to undo their work. Oh sure, there are some benevolent spirits, but there are too many malevolent and destructive spirits to classify spirits as wholly benevolent or even neutral._

 _Of course, everything above neglects the fact that it's usually the humans who instigate any kind of disaster with their never ending destruction of the planet and its resources._

 _But magicians do know what spirits are made of._

 _In fact, it is rather simple._

 _..._

 _Okay, maybe it isn't simple._

 _So few examples will have to suffice._

 _In one example, let's say that a person has a house in Florida. His house rests on an island with few trees and shrubs decorating the said island. Now, humans perceive the island with smell, sound, sight, touch, and taste (not much of the last and very much of the third and fourth). What does the planet that is alive perceive the island as? How sense does the planet use to perceive?_

 _Spirits, in this case, would be the senses of the gaia. These spirits, or nature spirits as magicians call them, are imperceptible to anything that does not possess spiritual perception (funny how that works). These spirits do not interact with either modern magecraft or technology, and neither can perceive it._

 _In another example, we have a man sitting on his throne in some place hidden from the eyes of the mundane and magical. This "man" delights in the worships offered to him by his worshipers and may once in a while grant his worshipers a portion of his power or offer them help in the form of direct interference. In this case, the spirits are the collective imagination and willpower of sentient and sapient creatures like humanity. These spirits are Divine Spirits, or the so called gods._

 _Yes, gods exist because humanity gives them the power. These spirits are different from the nature spirits because they can interact with the physical world and be perceived without a special sense like spiritual perception._

 _Well... all gods except one, but He is neither the center of this topic and covers a lot more than just spirits._

 _Back to the plural gods, these spirits are powerful, make no mistake, but their power depends on their followers and worshipers. A god with more followers and worshipers will outpower another god with less followers and worshipers. So what happens when a god loses all worshipers?_

 _A good example of such god is an ancient Divine Spirit by the modern name of Hadur of the Magyars mythology. Once, this Divine Spirit was the strongest in the northern Balkans, rivaling the Divine Spirit Ares of the Greeks in physical prowess. But unlike Ares, who is still worshiped to this day, Hadur has no worshipers at all. He doesn't even have a temple or a shrine to his name anymore. He lost all the power he possessed... and was reduced to an Elemental._

 _An Elemental do not derive power nor existence from the imagination or power of humans, but because they do not receive power, they are infinitely weaker than Divine Spirits._

 _It has been widely agreed by many magicians that Divine Spirits are one of the reasons why humanity has yet to fall prey to the demons of gaia; because they are dependent on humanity, they fight gaia, and thus reducing gaia's own influence on its own world. They do this with what magicals call "Authority." This allows them to do what deities are known for and is dependent on how humans perceive them. A god of fertility can't create a kingdom of human sacrifice, for example._

 _It must be noted that increasing human population offsets the power of gaia by giving the Divine Spirits more power._

 _Everyone but the Mage's Association is under the belief that at this progression rate, gaia will die in a thousand years or so, replaced by the Divine Spirits. And believe me, I have done my best to attempt to convince the Mage's Association._

 _So what are spirits made out of and what are they to us humans?_

 _The only thing they could be ... Living Imagination._

 _By Kischur Zelretch Schweinorg  
Posted on the internet forum "Magi rus di Forum" on the topic of spirits_

* * *

The three Servants, Kiritsugu, Harry, and Shirou sat in the living room. It had been a day since Saber had been summoned, and so strategy planning was commencing.

"Kiritsugu, I forbid you from assassinating the other Masters," Saber demanded but made her demand sound like a statement, or even an order.

Kiritsugu glared at her. "How else are we to stop the Holy Grail War then?" he spat back.

"I only ask that you reach out to them first."

The elder Emiya looked surprised.

Lancer grinned as well. "Aye. It is only fair for us to tell them of the Grail's corruption," he added his own two cents in. "What's to stop the other four from forming an alliance of their own after learning about ours, after all? At least, if we tell them, there will be believers and non-believers. Believers will side with us, increasing our chance of stopping the Holy Grail."

Shirou used this chance to interrupt. "Shouldn't we be first scouting out what the other Masters are doing then?" he asked. "At least this way, we can research about them and approach the ones most likely to join us."

"Good point," Saber nodded approvingly before sneering at Kiritsugu. "At least, you managed to raise a good and dependable child."

Kiritsugu glared right back. "I only did what I had to do."

Shirou sighed at the hostility between his father and Saber.

It was Harry who interrupted the strategy planning this time. "I'm hungry."

Lancer looked at his Master before turning to Shirou. "Me too."

"But you ate an hour ago," Shirou complained.

Ever since the Servants had been summoned, which was three days ago, he had been reduced from a "Master" to a chef. Due to the increasing demand and the amount each member of the Emiya household -including Servants- process, he had been spending more and more time in the kitchen. While he loved his kitchen, spending more than six hours a day in the kitchen when one was not a professional chef was just ridiculous.

Harry pouted.

"Then why don't you two scout," Kiritsugu said as he turned to Lancer and Caster. "Saber here has issues with astralizing, and as such, will remain our guard. Do not engage anyone, and if you are engaged on, retreat."

Caster and Lancer nodded. "Sounds good to me," Caster replied, speaking for the first time, as she stood up. She turned to Shirou. "Do you want me to shop for groceries on the way back, dear Husband?"

Shirou facepalmed as his face grew red. Lancer and Harry just laughed at the red-haired teen's embarrassment.

* * *

It was around midnight when Lancer found the first Master.

Unlike Caster, who was adapt at magic sensing, he had no magic-related skill at all. As a result, he received orders from Caster to search areas that she could not sense.

He had been searching one such area towards the southeast of the Fuyuki City when he came across the school.

He learned from his short time with the Emiya household that had his Master's older brother not been sent to academy in Kyoto, he would have been continuing his education at this school.

He was now watching another Servant, a buxom woman whose hair color suggested a non-mortal origin, placing seals all over the school.

Lancer was no magician, wizard, or magus. He did not recognize any of the seals.

Instead, he asked his Master.

'Master. I have spotted a Servant.'

'Let me talk to tou-san.'

Lancer sighed. It couldn't be helped. He had been, after all, summoned by a child.

'Daddy asks what the Servant looks like.'

'Tall. Purple haired. A blind fold. Buxom. Strong legs-'

'Dad says stop.'

'And also placing seals all over the school not too far away from our own stronghold.'

There was a bit of silence before Harry spoke up. 'Daddy says to show me the seal so I can show him it.'

Lancer imagined the seal and sent it to his Master.

Again, silence.

By the time the second silence had come, the Servant he was watching had planted seven more seals.

'Daddy says those seals are bad. Return to us.'

'Yes, Master.'

Rider, unfortunately, did noticed Lancer spying on her right when he left.

* * *

Caster herself had found a Servant. Unlike Lancer, she found this Servant on the other side of the city. To be more specific, she found the Servant in the patronless church; there was another church in the center of the Fuyuki City that _vibrated_ with divine power. This church, though, held no such power. Instead, it reeked of evil and the dead.

'Something foul is happening there,' she thought to herself. 'No matter.'

She turned her attention away from that Servant to search for others, not including the one she just learned about from her Master, one that was supposedly at the local high school.

* * *

Gilgamesh frowned as he felt the power of another Servant briefly pass by the church. He frowned not because he was found -he didn't really care about being found- but because the Servant's power held something ... different.

It was a feeling that he was sure that he was familiar with but could not for the sake of his Grail remember.

'No matter,' he thought as he drained another child of its prana to sustain its existence. 'War has begun and I will see my beloved Saber once more.'

* * *

Kotomine stared at his new servant.

It was Assassin. Again.

Perhaps it was God's sign that he was destined to have the weakest of the combative Servants?

"Hello there," the Assassin grinned. "I assume you know what I am."

"Servant Assassin."

"Aye that."

"And who were you in life?"

"Hatake Kakashi."

"...And who is that supposed to be?"

Kakashi stared at Kirei with a deadpan. "And what are you supposed to be?"

"A priest."

"The bodies around us suggests otherwise."

"I was supposed to summon a warrior with one of the highest number of kill counts."

Kakashi scratched the back of his head in embarrassment. "Mah, mah. Don't embarrass a man like that."

"..."

"What?"

"Again, who were you in life?"

"I died?"

Kirei facepalmed.


	10. Chapter 10

As the second day of the Holy Grail War dawned upon the Fuyuki City, its clueless inhabitants woke up to go about their day.

Harry, being young as he was, was part of this group of people. Clueless and careless.

Even so, he knew that things had changed.

First off, the Servants that he and his family summoned for a 'war.'

Second, the way that his father and older brother grew tense in the past three days. Even if he didn't understand much of what his father had told him, he knew that there was danger outside. Which was funny, considering that he understood everything his Tome said but not what people said.

Good for him, it was because now he got to spend more time reading the Tome.

So he sat in his room with the Tome open before him. His father's Servant, "Saber," sat on the other side of the room with her armor and sword out.

Harry didn't pay attention to his environment. Instead, he dove deep into the lore written in this book.

Today, he was reading something called "Zulu Rituals."

 _Zulu Rituals were developed in cooperation between the mundane and the magicals of the Zulu people. Most of these rituals had much to do with divine the luck, future, and prosperity of the ritualist. Materials used in Zulu rituals involve bones of animals, liquid of any kind, soil, and living sacrifice._

 _Initially, Zulu rituals were disregarded as a magus or wizard ritual due to its shamanistic nature. One of the reasons why Zulu rituals were dismissed as primitive magecraft was due to the first contact magus not taking the personal symbols seriously. If the ritual in question does not use the ritualist's personal symbol of whatever is centric to the ritual, then the ritual just does not work._

 _They were given their due, however, by Mage's Association when United Kingdom of Great Britain was the ruler of South Africa. This included the measure of wiping out any magic-related incidents that may expose magecraft to the mundane world. Due to the actions of the Mage's Association at this time, recorded accounts of Zulu warrior shields ricocheting rifle bullets and monstrous size of some of the Zulu warriors were wiped out. It was by the fortune of a collector that a mere dozen such account are preserved._

 _Unlike the magus populating Europe, whose primary goal was to reach the Akashic Records, or the Swirling Root, which is said to contain knowledge of everything and anything past, present, and future, the Zulu mundane and magicals were not interested in such ideas (because it didn't occur to them that Root existed). They were more focused on the improvement of their general lifestyle._

 _It is because of this that the Zulu rituals contain the fourth most colloquial rituals despite possessing less than two hundred years of written language. Yes, the Zulu magicals have their own written language that's not based on Latin alphabet._

 _The diversity of the Zulu rituals is made better by the fact that unlike Eurasian rituals, Zulu rituals do not require the ritualist to know a single written language, for the rituals were developed with the lack of a written language in mind. On top of that, it does not require a single unit of mana or od from the ritualist in question, although it does perform better._

 _In fact, one might call the Zulu rituals one of the many roots of the modern Voodoo rituals._

 _Ritual of Cleansing_

 _Description:  
This ritual is designed to remove a single ailment from target._

 _Required materials: Soil, body paint (any color), ritual knife_  
 _Recommended materials: Soil, cleaned thigh bone, ritual knife saturated with prana, body paint (white)_

 _Steps:_  
 _1\. Paint the ritualist's personal symbol of healing onto the chest of the patient._  
 _1.2 Paint the ritualist's personal symbol of the ailment in question onto the chest of the patient._  
 _2\. Evenly spread dirt around the patient so that the patient is covered in dirt, even the painted symbol._  
 _3\. Make a single cut on the patient's forehead with the ritual knife. The ritual knife should be saturated with prana, patient's or ritualist's, or the ritual will take an hour to commence._  
 _4\. Optional: Place the cleaned thigh bone at the feet of the patient with less than ten centimeters from the patient's feet._  
 _5\. Ritualist: Chant: "Sawubona, umngane emhlabeni! Ukusiza lo mphefumulo. Aphulukise lo mphefumulo. Umngane emhlabeni."_

 _Comment:_  
 _*It takes about approximately five to ten days to fully heal the body once the ritual is complete, but the ritual can only heal one ailment at a time. For example, the ritual can cure the AIDS but not cold. It can cure cold, but not the AIDS.  
*This ritual cannot work for self, only others.  
*The cleaned thigh bone is the outlet for the disease. This reduces mana required from the environment and makes the process expedite._

 _Ritual of Ox's Strength_

 _Description:  
This ritual is designed to boost the target's strength. It is an additive ritual. No surface change outside of changing muscle mass and height occurs._

 _Required materials: Any animal, soil, body paint, ritual knife with prana_  
 _Recommend materials: Ox, soil, ritual knife saturated with prana, body paint_

 _Steps:  
1\. Paint the ritualist's personal symbol of strength and conquest onto the chest of the patient or self.  
2\. Kill the animal and have the ritual's target stand on top of it.  
3\. Make a single cut on the patient's forehead with the ritual knife.  
4\. Ritualist and Target of Ritual: Chat: B_ _esingeba inyama yakho namandla! Chant must go on for an hour and a half at the very minimum. Otherwise, the ritual aborts._

 _Comment:  
*The reason why this ritual was hard to perform was due to the fact that they were prized possessions. Only kings, the rich, and other prestigious members of society could afford the cost of the ritual.  
*Can be performed only once on anyone.  
*The animal can be any animal, mundane or magical. It is the strength of the animal (with a few pounds) that is to be added to the ritual's target.  
*This ritual is one of the many Zulu rituals requiring prana.  
*Watch out for the bones._

 _Ritual of Cheetah  
Same as Ritual of Ox's Strength, though the sacrifice is replaced with an animal that is fast. The chant is also different. Instead of strength, you speak speed._

 _Ritual of Power_

 _Description:  
This ritual is designed to steal magical core or magic circuits from the victim. The victim must have fought the ritualist beforehand and lost in earnest._

 _Required materials: magus(sacrifice)(alive), 50,000 units of prana in any form of storage, ritual knife  
Recommended materials:_ _magus(sacrifice)(alive), 50,000 units of prana in any form of storage, ritual knife, cleaned thigh bone, ropes_

 _Steps:  
1\. Paint the ritualist's personal symbol of magic and conquest onto the chest of the ritualist's own chest.  
2\. Cut the magus so that that he/she drains blood slowly. Magus must not die until final phase. Use the ropes to bind the magus, if available.  
3\. Make a single cut on the ritualist's forehead with the ritual knife.  
4\. Rituatlist: Chant: Duse kokunqotshwa, mina bathi ilumbo yakho!  
5\. Kill the magus.  
6._ _Rituatlist: Chant: Duse kokunqotshwa, mina bathi ilumbo yakho!_

 _Comment:  
*This is a modern ritual.  
*Can be repeated.  
*Stolen magic circuits connect to the existing network without much issue. Only the most incompatible souls reject the others' magic circuits. In which case, bye bye. You're dead._

 _Ritual of Purification  
_

 _Description:  
This ritual is designed to clean food or water before consumption._

 _Required materials: Soil, food/water, ritual knife  
_

 _Steps:  
1\. Place food/water(in non-metallic holder) on top of a mound of soil  
2\. Stick the ritual knife into the substance  
3\. Wait for two hours.  
4\. Ritualist: Chant: Umoya womhlaba, ukuhlanza ukudla kwami. Ukuthatha engcolile enhlabathini lapho kungase ngukudla kini._

 _Comment:  
*If you can't do this ritual, don't advance. Give up._

Harry turned to Saber. "Let's do this!"

Saber raised an eyebrow. "Do what?"

* * *

Saber was ... amazed. The youngest Emiya was magus that even she had trouble understanding.

After all, children do not read the dustiest, oldest, and the thickest book he comes across in his life _for fun_.

...But children do attempt to do what they see and hear. Or read.

"I do not believe that Kiritsugu would allow you to do this," Saber said sternly. "It is also my responsibility to see you safe and sound. My honor would be stained if anything were to happen to you."

Harry looked at Saber for a second.

"Because I'm a kid?"

Saber nodded.

Harry grinned back. "It's okay then. It's not like I'm doing anything experimental."

"Regardless, using magic without guidance or a veteran-"

"I know," Harry replied. "No one lets me do anything, even though I know so much. Even the book says so."

Saber blinked. "The book says so?"

Harry nodded as he pointed to the tome he was holding. "Mr. Obscure says so."

"Wha-?"

Then Saber froze as the entire room plummeted with pressure. Her entire body buckled and she was shocked. She knew what she was feeling at the moment.

Killing intent.

Normally, only the most veteran or bloodthirsty warrior could exude killing intent. It was, after all, a matter of will. She was confused, though. She was confused because of _where_ the feeling was coming from.

The book.

Then the pressure of the killing intent was gone. Only silence remained.

Instead, her skin rose as one as goosebumps covered her entire body as the silence stretched on.

The book.

It had changed.

No longer was it old or dusty. It was no longer bound in leather.

Rather, it was gone.

And in its place was Harry... covered in moving scripts and -!

"Ms. Saber?"

She blinked.

And everything was back to normal.

"What-?!" she hissed as she drew her sword and looked around.

Harry stepped back in shock at seeing Saber draw her sword. "Ms.S-Saber?"

Saber paused.

Everything was back to normal. Then what was that before? Why did she feel the book and why did she see Harry covered in scripts.

"I-It's nothing," she replied as she sheathed her sword.

But it wasn't nothing.

Harry smiled. "Alright then. Anyway, let's do this."

Saber sighed. "Harry, we aren't."

* * *

In the end, they did it.

It was a minor ritual.

 _Ritual of Spiritual Perception._

It was found at the back of the Zulu rituals and required only one thing: soil. The steps were easy too. Make a cut on the forehead and shove dirt and prana in at the same time while dunking your head in dirt water.

Easy, not clean.

In the end, it allowed Harry to see the spirits partially. The ritual itself was only meant to aid those already with spiritual perception and served to boost their senses. So the fact that it worked at all showed that Harry did possess some spirit perception. Just not enough to matter before the ritual.

Also, Saber only allowed the ritual to happen because she had seen Merlin perform a similar ritual, except Merlin had the help of the spirits, or as the Englishmen know them, the fae.

Harry's reasoning had been that if Lancer and Caster could astralize, other Masters can't see them. But now he'll be able to regardless of his connection to any servants because he could now visually see spirits. Partially.

Saber thought that it was also a good idea and allowed herself to be subjected to Kiritsugu's slow and quiet lecture on what is safe and not.

"Harry, you will not perform any more magic or magecraft without my express guidance. Is that understood?"

"But how about Shirou?"

Kiritsugu's cheek muscles ticked. "Is that understood?"

Harry looked downtrodden even as he said "Yes, tou-san."

'Shirou was a special case,' Kiritsugu reasoned with himself. 'He also doesn't modify his body.'

* * *

While the Emiya household was building up their defensive foundation (courtesy of Caster, Shirou, and Kiritsugu), a Master was on the warpath.

Namely, Kirei.

With Kakashi at his side, he attacked the first Master he came across.

Matou Shinji, the Master of Rider.

Shinji had been cornered in his own school where he had been setting up traps for the eventual attack on his person.

He was a coward but he wasn't stupid. He knew he had to prepare and with his lack of magic circuits, he would be an easy picking for most, especially assassin.

So he had Rider trap the entire high school he was attending in hopes of taking out Assassin.

Except this Assassin was too good.

The Assassin disabled all of his traps within five minutes, disabled his Rider, and chased him through school.

And he was now at the edge of the rooftop with Assassin holding a kunai against his throat.

"No personal feelings, kid, but Master wants you gone," he said.

With that he withdrew his kunai-

-and pushed the boy.

* * *

Kirei watched the Matou boy fall from a distance and smiled when he struck the ground. The boy's skull had caved and brain matter was decorating some of the nearby students in a new macabre fashion.

He relished in the screams the students made.

Terror.

How delightful.

He smiled and left. He only regretted having to use one of his Command Spells for such a small fry.


	11. Chapter 11

It was the third day of the Holy Grail War, and by the noon of it, the still living participants of the war had learned of the demise of Rider's Master. They knew that Rider was still around, but without a Master to provide it prana, its existence was on a time limit. Everyone dismissed her rather quickly.

Well, everyone except Harry.

It was mostly because of his new sight; he could see Rider spying on his house.

His sight, now changed by the Ritual of Spiritual Perception, was able to discern spirits.

To him, Rider in herastralized form was like a shining beacon compared to the smaller near-insect-like land spirits of Fuyuki City.

He was intrigued. He had seen Servants astralize before. Shirou's Caster and his Lancer were capable of such feat. What he recognized was that the when the Servants astralized, their form seems more at ease.

'Is it because that's their real form?' Harry thought to himself.

He had read briefly about Heroic Spirits in the Obscure Tome, and assumed that all of the Servants in the Holy Grail War were such beings. Heroic Spirits, as he recalled, did not exist in the same plane as he and his family did. In fact, they could be classified as "timeless" beings because they could see through and act upon different time periods while accumulating from each era at the same time.

Harry didn't quite understand most about Heroic Spirits.

Still, he recognized that astralizing of a Servant made it closer to its original Heroic Spirit in form. Just something to think about.

On the other hand, he had another ritual to perform.

...

Damn it, Saber was coming his way.

* * *

As for Rider, she was uncertain. She spied on the Emiya household because it was the strongest "alliance" of Masters and Servants this war was seeing. She had reported this to her true Master already, of course. Other Masters, as far as her spying could tell, was unaware of the Emiya Masters, and as such were unaware of the danger these three Masters possessed.

She also had to report that the youngest of the Emiya was capable of seeing her and possibly any other Servants in their astralized form.

* * *

Kirei, on the other hand, was having trouble finding other Masters.

The only other Master he knew to be a participant was Illyasviel von Einzbern, the Master of the Berserker, and she was exempt from "death" because she was the vessel of the Grail.

So where were Masters of Saber, Archer, Caster, and Lancer?

Surely by now, the third day of the war, they would have done something like attempting to eliminate another Master.

"Is my stuck up Master scheming something again?"

Kirei sighed.

While he enjoyed inflicting pain upon others and feeling the pleasure of doing so, he came to _hate_ how his Assassin was verbally annoying him to kingdom come. Was this how normal people felt when faced with him? Was it worse or better? He couldn't even shut him up without having to resort to Command Spells, but having already wasted one on killing Rider's Master, he wasn't keen on using anymore, even if he had more than a few saved up from the previous war.

They were trump cards, not pest control.

Assassin made him question his position in life. He hated it.

"Aw, is my Master sad? Why is he sad? Is it because he doesn't appreciate my literature?"

"My irritation, Assassin," Kirei snapped. "Has nothing to do with your useless pornography."

Assassin's eye, which had been arching upward, narrowed. "Master, this book is no pornography."

"Assassin, will you shut up already?! I'm tryin-!"

Red glow permeated the room and Kirei froze.

Assassin moved his jaw but no sound came out. Disappointed, he shrugged and left Kirei to his device.

Kirei didn't know whether or not he should dance in joy or mess up the room in anger. Damn Assassin made him use another Command Spell!

* * *

Kakashi made a mark on the checklist hidden inside his Icha Icha.

 _1\. D̶i̶s̶c̶e̶r̶n̶ ̶w̶h̶e̶t̶h̶e̶r̶ ̶o̶r̶ ̶n̶o̶t̶ ̶M̶a̶s̶t̶e̶r̶ ̶i̶s̶ ̶a̶ ̶d̶e̶c̶e̶n̶t̶ ̶p̶e̶r̶s̶o̶n̶.̶_  
 _2\. M̶a̶k̶e̶ ̶M̶a̶s̶t̶e̶r̶ ̶u̶s̶e̶ ̶f̶i̶r̶s̶t̶ ̶C̶o̶m̶m̶a̶n̶d̶ ̶S̶p̶e̶l̶l̶_  
 _3.M̶a̶k̶e̶ ̶M̶a̶s̶t̶e̶r̶ ̶u̶s̶e̶ ̶second ̶C̶o̶m̶m̶a̶n̶d̶ ̶S̶p̶e̶l̶l̶_  
 _4._ _Kill Master_  
 _5\. Deal with "Archer"  
6\. Have fun before disappearing_

He closed his Icha Icha and let it dissipate. His Icha Icha was part of his Noble Phantasm, apparently, so he could easily hide it. As such, his plan was safe.

When he first saw bodies of children, he had been horrified. But his training took over and his battle-hardened poker face came into play as soon as he had gained consciousness without a idea of where he was and who had summoned him.

He didn't like Kirei, even if he joked around with the man, and he certainly didn't get to like him more over the last few days. Still, he begrudgingly admitted that his Master was tactically sound man. His Master forced him to do what he does best: assassinate. Of course, hating his Master, he had done his best to avoid killing.

Then Kirei used a Command Spell.

Kakashi knew that once Kirei used the Command Spell, he was screwed; he had to kill the blue-haired boy.

Well, it made things easier after learning about all of the chakra-sucking traps that Rider's Master had Rider place around the entire school.

Still...

'I have to kill Kirei before he forces me to kill more people,' Kakashi thought as he thought about ways to kill Kirei.

The thing was, Kakashi knew a trained fighter when he saw one. Using Sharingan to confirm Kirei's muscle bound body with chakra network only served to confirm his intuition. He knew that fighting Kirei one-on-one was going to somewhat difficult, but nothing two shadow clones can't handle while he sneaks up behind the man and slit his throat.

No, the biggest huddle to his plan was the golden haired man who called himself the King of Heroes.

Kakashi had looked him up, of course; he was a ninja and ninjas always learn about their enemy before engaging.

Gilgamesh, the ancient king of Uruk. "The First King." "The First Hero." "The First Myth."

A lot of "First"s.

Regardless of his titles and whatever legends the man had birthed, Kakashi knew absolutely jackshit about him. He knew that Gilgamesh was supposed to be an "Archer" from the previous Holy Grail War and that he was considered the strongest out of all heroes simply because of his Noble Phantasm, the Gates of Babylon.

But what did it do?

Too little info.

Even if this life was fake, he didn't want to die a horrible death after killing Kirei.

So he waited as shinobi of Konoha do for their assassination mission.

Quite and observing.

After all, it wouldn't be too late to kill Kirei in the midst of battle, especially if Kirei's desire to participate in battle was anything to go by.

* * *

As much as Kakashi was wary and scheming against Kirei, Kirei was doing the same with Kakashi.

After his Assassin left the room, Kirei schooled his features.

Kakashi was a threat. Even as an Assassin, Kakashi was too relaxed and smooth. His Assassin forced him to use two Command Spells, one intentionally when Assassin demanded pay and the second unintentionally.

The first one Kirei might have been allowed to let Kakashi have it. It did not matter in the long run anyway. But when he used the second Command Spell, that was when he realized that there was something going on.

Kirei knew in his gut that Assassin was doing this on purpose and that made him a threat.

But as a powerful Servant, Kirei couldn't afford to just kill him off.

Not yet, at least.

* * *

Illyasviel, on the other hand, was bored. She came here to demand answers from her wayward father, but he and his two adopted children -the assholes who replaced her- were stuck behind their extremely durable bounded field and refused to come out.

Their Servants, though, came out regularly.

Unfortunately, they were fast. Very fast.

She expected Saber to be in the hands of her father once more because her father was still in possession of Avalon, the Noble Phantasm of Arturia Pendragon. Rider and Assassin had been identified as possession of other Masters.

It left Lancer, Archer, and Caster.

It irked her.

While her Berserker was a very strong Servant, easily capable of taking on one or two Servants at once, fighting three Servants along with her father was a suicide move on her part.

Unable and unwilling to show her cards and expose herself to the Emiya household, she was ... frustrated.

She sighed.

There was only one option for her to take to force her father out of the hiding, but could she take the chance?

Of course, there were other options. In fact, she had numerous options! But only one was viable for a favorable outcome, even if she didn't like it.

It was also a tactic her father used in the previous war.

She turned to Berserker.

"Let's go back to the manor," she said and when Berserker extended his hand down to her, she climbed up and went on his shoulder. She glared at the Emiya manor. "Soon father, I will have to pay for what you did."

Later that night, Kiritsugu got a call from his daughter, asking to meet her by the ancient Einzbern manor at the edge of Fuyuki City.


	12. Chapter 12

Kiritsugu was frustrated.

It was in his nature to be calm and logical because he had trained himself that way. He couldn't be emotional, sentimental, or irrational when faced with death. All problems had to be solved in the most efficient and least damaging way possible.

For his daughter to call him out claiming that she was the Master of Berserker?

It was either a trap or a precautionary measure by the Einzberns.

It could be a trap because if Illyasviel was truly the Master of Berserker, she would want to win as well. If he came out, alone, as she requested, then he will die.

It could also not be a trap because even if she was another Master, she just wanted to meet him. Oh, how he wanted this to be true.

It could also be a precautionary measure by the Einzberns because there was no way the Einzberns were going to just unleash Illya into the Holy Grail War without taking up precautions on their own side, just like how they had done in the previous war.

Like hiring another assassin to take care of him.

Einzberns had a lot of issues with him, from attempting to destroy the Grail to breaking the contract. If they were unhappy enough with him, they would hire an assassin. It would not be hard for such assassin to kill him from far away with sniper rifle when he was out in the park alone with his daughter.

Hell, he might even drop his guard because of Illya.

...

And because of this, he was frustrated.

He wanted to go meet his daughter who he could not rescue from the damnable clutches of the Einzbern's Black Castle. At the same time, he could not just let himself go out without taking precautions. But without knowing what kind of traps or enemies he might be facing -should the situation prove to be hostile- he couldn't exactly prepare properly.

Information was power, and he had very little of it.

* * *

Illya was frustrated.

She wanted to meet her father but he didn't respond to her yet.

What was he doing, just sitting on the invitation?!

... Maybe he was guilty of just abandoning her as her grandpa had said. Why else would he not accept the invitation.

Oh wait, she knew exactly why.

Because she was an Einzbern.

She knew that her maternal family was not exactly ... nice. In fact, calling them monsters would be an understatement.

If Kiritsugu was not brain dead, he would be brainstorming on how to avoid any traps that Einzbern might place.

But of course, no one of the Einzberns knew that she was going to talk with her father. She had even made sure that she appeared as hostile to the idea of Kiritsugu as possible before she left the Black Castle.

However, this still didn't excuse him from not accepting the invitation!

She sighed.

She had half a mind to go to her father instead of letting him come to her. Unfortunately, her father was -please excuse the language- paranoid as fuck. If she showed up with Berserker behind her, it would be close to calling a declaration of war. But to appear without her Servant was asking to be killed, whether or not her father was the Master she wanted to meet.

Ugh, she hated this.

* * *

In Shirou's opinion, there was no other choice but to accept the invitation.

A potential enemy Master or not, Illyasviel was family, and in Shirou's ideal world, family would at least talk to each other before they went for the others' throat.

"Dad, why not meet her?"

Kiritsugu turned to look at his eldest son.

Shirou shrugged. "I'm sure that our Servants could easily keep an eye on her from afar. She also didn't say anything about bringing a tool for escape, right? She only asked you to come alone."

Kiritsugu blinked. His son was right. He had been so caught up in his "Magus Killer" mentality that _escape_ was far from his mind. He had been only thinking about countering any form of hostility that the Einzberns -and maybe his daughter- may pose to him.

Escape?

Now that was a good idea if things took a downturn.

* * *

So Kiritsugu, equipped with a portkey -as the British wizards call the mystic code- went to meet his daughter.

Harry, on the other hand, was enjoying his tome once more in his room. Perusing through its content, he arrived at a rather peculiar chapter.

 _"Creation for the Dummies"_

He frowned at the title. He was no dummy. Why did the book stop the page here?

Without resistance, he began to read that chapter.

 _If you are reading this, you are reading the product of my final research. My name is (it's smeared) della Rovere. I ... was a cardinal of the Holy See. When I first became a cardinal, I was a regular mage-priest, an Executor. I was elected into the position by being the head of the Executor division of the Holy See. But as time passed by, I had a growing concern._

 _The Holy See, His Grace the Pope, my fellow cardinals, and the regular priests were content. We, who are supposed to learn about God and his will upon this earth, were content._

 _I decided to champion the cause of seeking the Christian mage's path to God. Not to Akasha, as the heretics commit their heresies for, but for God our father. B_ _ut in my later years, my fellow cardinals and priests discovered my research. They labeled me as a heretic and had me excommunicated._

 _It's their fault that my research into Creation took so long to finish. I had all the materials needed, the artifacts of God and the Kingdom of Heaven, right where I could access them._

 _The Art of Creation is not a True Magic nor is it powerful. It is a tool that is limited by the mage's power and imagination._

 _The basic components to the Art of Creation is as follows: fuel(prana), blueprint(imagination and knowledge), and will(sentience)._

 _Fuel is self-explanatory. It requires prana. Unlike ritual magic which requires little from the ritualist and more from the environment to fuel the magical process, the Art of Creation is different in that it requires nothing from the environment and all from its mage._

 _Blueprint is slightly more difficult. First, one must have imagination, which means the caster of the Art of Creation must be capable of complex thoughts. No dog or cat could use the Art no matter how much prana the beasts have! The other part of the blueprint is knowledge. One must understand the laws of physics, living bodies, and the interaction between the two as much as possible. If the caster does not know the laws, then the creation will be subjected to a crumbling decay that cannot be stopped, for the laws of the world deny its existence._

Harry stopped right there.

He was a smart boy; everyone said so. That's why he kept on reading and learning. His family praised him for it.

But he didn't know anything about what this chapter of the tome was going on about.

He understood prana and rituals. He understood about where the "fuels" came from, either from mana in the environment or prana/od inside the magus' magic circuits. He understood a need for blueprints, but he did not understand why magic could not keep allow a creation to operate on its own if it broke the laws of physics.

After all, wasn't magic what broke the laws of physics in the first place? Why should it matter if its creation broke the laws too?

Harry buckled down and read through the chapter thoroughly to gain an understanding, hoping that there was something inside the chapter that could explain.

* * *

 _(continued from where Harry left off)_

 _The last requirement for the Art of Creation is Will, or sentience. This is different from saptience, or complex thoughts, because a Mystic Code given enough examples and guidelines can think up complex thoughts. In essence, the caster for the Art of Creation must be a_ living _caster. Yes, this means that no Dead Apostle or their kind can use this magic. Thank the Lord for His mercies._

 _Once you have gathered the necessary materials and requirements, you only have one thing to do: cast._

 _Casting the Art of Creation is difficult. Generally, this is because the caster sets up a "blueprint" that is too big, complicated, or powerful. Sometimes, it's all three._

 _It must be noted that casters of the Art of Creation is limited by how much_ prana _they possess._

 _Why?_

 _Because, from my own research, to "create" something with the size and complexity of an ant requires 12,000 units of prana. Creating a dog -or anything similar to it- takes a whooping 1,000,000 units of prana! I was only able to gain that much prana by connecting external magic circuits to myself while also converting mana to prana within my own body. I nearly died from that experiment. At least, I now have a pet that no one else does._

 _All in all, it is ridiculously prana-inefficient. Only those possessing the Einzbern's third True Magic could even hope to regularly use the Art of Creation._

 _However, by researching this lost art(what else could it be?), I have recognized the Lord's strength as well._

 _If creating an ant takes enough energy to leave magi and wizards of ancient lineage or monstrous reserve hospitalized, how powerful must the Lord be to create our world? To create the sun? To mold and give life to this universe?_

 _To also be able to learn the Art that the Holy Father had used himself to give rise to the world?_

 _Well, my fellow priests would definitely call me heretic with that phrase alone._

 _Regardless, the Art of Creation is not a True Magic to be taken lightly. But ... I do not believe that I will circulate this research. While it may help the world with its problems and bring about further glory for the Lord, I do not believe that the world is ready. Just days ago from when I finished this research, counts and dukes of the Holy Roman Empire had declared war upon each other; the heathens in the East have completed their control over the Balkans; the heathen Cossacks have overrun our Orthodox brothers and their principalities._

 _If this research lands in the hands of those untrustworthy, I believe that the world may as well end, for warlords will sacrifice people to create demons of war, and the mad will surely use this holy Art to spread plague of the unimaginable._

 _But at the same time, I hope that my research will be found when the world is at peace. I hope to see this holy Art be spread so that all may know the power and the mercy of the Lord Our God._


	13. Chapter 13

**To the reviewers who keep trying to point the what's wrong with the snippets of knowledge from the Tome itself:**

 **Look, guys. The tome is not the fucking google nor an encyclopedia. It is merely a collection of literal 'obscure' knowledge added to it, whether or not it is true or even accurate. What I show you is not merely just knowledge but ideas, cultures, and individuals behind each and every single one of those snippets.**

 **Let's take a look the Blood Chapter. That chapter was meant to give you a foundation of knowledge that this world is not exactly Fate/Stay Night or canon Harry Potter. That there are other magi organizations out there, that there are Mage's Association is not one of three but one of many. That the world is not so small as Fate/Stay Night can sometimes portray it to be. I have theories as to why the world of Fate is so small and confined, but that's for another time.**

 **What I meant to do with the Creation Chapter was to introduce you to the psychology of late medieval and early Renaissance Europe as well as those of the upper ranks of the Catholic Church. That there are more than just "saving this," "learning this," and "reaching Akasha" to researches in this world I'm trying to create than just the canon worlds. To show you that there are people with faith out in this story -however in the past- and that things are _different_. **

**All the worlds I create have their foundation in the fandom but they _will never be the same_. That is why I write in fanfiction: the worlds are not meant to be the same.**

 **That limitations here are different or altogether misunderstood.**

 **Perhaps I'm expecting too much from SOME of you guys. That reading between the lines is too much for some of you.**

 **And if you can't understand or read between the lines, I pity you. There are so many good stories out there, yet you can't understand them.**

 **Or maybe you're just bs'ing me and I'm falling for it.**

 **Signed,**

 **Akallas von Aerok,  
** **formerly Slender's Father**

* * *

 **Now. Onto the chapter for those of you who weren't butthurt, discriminating, hardcore canoneers, or just gone.**

* * *

Kiritsugu stood outside the boundary which marked the ancestral manor of the Einzberns in Fuyuki City.

He had been waiting for the past ten minutes, and the time of meeting was close approaching.

"Hello, father."

Kiritsugu turned around without haste or hesitation.

"Ilya."

She smiled. "How have you been, father?"

"I've been worse," he replied casually without breaking eye contact. "In fact, it was your little brother that healed me after I got cursed in the last war."

"Oh..." she frowned. "I was unaware that you remarried. Did you forget about mother so quickly?" she asked, feigning ignorance.

He narrowed his eyes. "Let's cut to the chase, Ilya."

She narrowed her eyes too. "Fine then. What happened? Why didn't you come back for me?" she demanded.

"I did."

"You didn't."

"The old man kicked me out even before I entered the castle."

Ilya frowned. Grandfather hadn't told her anything like that. In fact, her grandfather said that Kiritsugu never came for her.

"Well? Was that it?"

Kiritsugu paused for a moment before sighing. "Ilya, I tried. I tried to sneak in, I tried assaulting, I tried to even bribe," he explained. "But they wouldn't even let me see you. They moved your room, too."

"Then why would grandfather let me enter this war, knowing that you would tell me this?"

"Because he's desperate enough to risk your allegiance for the Holy Grail and thus the Third True Magic."

Kiritsugu slowly extended a hand. "Please, come with me. We also need to heal you too. I also have other things to explain."

"I'm not sick, daddy," she replied with a smile. "But it's good to know that you're still my Kiritsugu."

He smiled in return. "Then do you trust me?"

"...Yes," she said and grabbed his hand.

* * *

"I TRUSTED YOU!" Ilya shouted as she pushed Kiritsugu away.

"Now, Ilya, don't be picky. This is for your own good."

"No, I refuse to believe that! You will not subject me to this!"

"Ilya... eat your vegetables."

"NO!"

"Ilya, you need to eat your vegetables. They'll help you."

"They're horrible and icky! I won't eat them, even if Shirou-chan's vegetables are better!"

Shirou sighed even as Harry happily ate his vegetables.

"This family just became more dysfunctional ... or is this normal? I think children screaming about not eating vegetable is normal. Yes, let's believe that," Shirou mumbled to himself.

"This is a dysfunctional family for you, Master?" Tamamo, the always kitchen helpful Servant she was, asked as she set down more plates of meat, which were then soon over taken by Lancer and Saber.

Shirou watched the two knight-class Servants fight a verbal warfare over the last piece of meat on a plate that just had a full pile no less than five seconds ago.

On that note of thought...

"Tamamo, why aren't you eating?" Shirou asked her.

She smiled coyly. "Who says I'm not?"

He stared at her for a while before he began to notice ... details. Like how she had a small, almost imperceptible smudge of teriyaki sauce on her lips. Like how her fingers seemed greasier than what one would expect from a server.

Like that piece of meat that was stuck between her teeth.

"Tamamo..."

She had been eating not from the plates, but directly from where he had been cooking just now.

She just smiled innocently.

"No dessert for you."

She paled before pouting. "Fine, then I'll make my own!"

"No. You will be staying out of the kitchens."

"Noo!"

* * *

Once dinner was over, the entire Emiya household sat around the cleaned table while the Servants were outside guarding.

"So?" Ilya began. "Can anyone tell me what happened in the last war in the first place?"

Kiritsugu nodded. "I suppose it began -for me- when I was recruited by the Head of the Einzbern Family to fight for them in the Fourth Holy Grail War. What I didn't know at the time is that during the Third Holy Grail War, he and his family had attempted to ... well, cheat."

Ilya raised an eyebrow. "And how would the Einzberns cheat in the war? By pulling more Servants to their side?"

Kiritsugu shook his head. "By summoning an irregular Servant, one who was called 'All the Evils of the World.' I ... personally do not know what happened in that war, except that Avenger was too weak. What Avenger did, however, was the corruption of the Holy Grail with himself. He tainted it."

"Tainted it how?"

"While the Holy Grail still grants wishes, it knows extracts a price. Bigger wishes like saving world, however, would cause the Holy Grail to spit out all of the corruption, the Curse of Angra Mainyu, the All the Evils of the World, out."

Shirou spoke here. "It is what started the Great Fuyuki Fire half a decade ago."

"Indeed," Kiritsugu added. "But you see, that fire started because I was not too smart."

Everyone turned to him.

"How so?" Ilya asked.

"The Holy Grail was ready to grant me my wish, you see."

Ilya's eyes hardened. "Don't tell me you..."

Kiritsugu shook his head. "No, I didn't make a wish, not when the price was the life of my only child."

Ilya's eyes widened before narrowing. "How can I trust you that what you say is the truth?"

Kiritsugu thought about it for a while before he turned to Harry. "Harry, is there anything in the tome that can help us here?" he asked.

Ilya raised a quizzical eyebrow at her father and her adopted little brother. "What tome are yo-?"

Harry, seemingly out of nowhere, pulled out a thick, dusty tome and set it on the table. He pricked his finger on the lock, and it opened. He searched for something, flipping through its pages with his tiny hands at a pace too fast for anyone to see, not even Kiritsugu with his "Double Accel."

Then he found it.

Harry slammed his hand onto the page and read off the pages for a bit before looking up.

"Umm... It's called 'Memory Withdrawl' and 'Memory Insertion.' It's a wizarding technique, though."

"So we're going to need a wizard's wand."

Harry nodded before he closed the tome and -seemingly to nowhere once more- stashed the tome away.

Ilya looked at Harry for a bit. "What was that tome?" she asked.

Now, Ilya was a magus, and magus love knowledge. A tome of the size and obscurity that Harry had just used -which contained not just magi techniques but also wizarding techniques- looked very tempting to steal a look at from Ilya's perspective.

Unfortunately for her, it was not to be without Harry's permission.

Shirou chuckled. "It's the Obscure Tome. It's a living book of knowledge that chooses its owner, I'm afraid."

Ilya pouted. "Fine." After a pause, she turned to Kiritsugu, who was sitting to her right. "Tell me more."

"I saw the price of what I wanted and I suddenly didn't want it anymore. Simple as that."

"That couldn't have started a fire..."

"No. I used my Command Seals, all three of them, to order my Saber, the very Saber standing outside, to destroy the grail."

* * *

After a few more comments from all members of the Emiya name and Ilya, the meeting concluded, and they gave Ilya time to think about things.

The memories of the price being offered would have to wait until they were able to get a wizarding wand, which was not that hard to come by since the wizards are rather ... prolific, compared to the magi.

"Daddy's hurting, you know."

Ilya raised her head up and stared into emerald eyes of a black haired boy. Her youngest adopted brother and the holder of the Obscure Tome.

"Hurting?"

"Fear of rejection. Daddy is too easy to read sometimes," Harry said as he sat down.

"And you sound too mature to be saying things like that."

"You look like how I am, so you don't have any right."

"And you're acting differently from how I've seen you act so far."

Harry smiled. "It's a side effect."

"Of?"

"The tome."

"... What exactly is it?"

Harry thought about it for a while before he pounded his right fist once into his open palm. "Ah. Do you know what bacteria are?"

Ilya frowned. "Vaguely. Something living that's so small we can't see."

Harry nodded with a smile. "Well, the popular theory is that we all evolved from such bacteria."

"And what does that have to do with the tome?"

"The tome is ... an evolution, I think," Harry said. "Of pure, magical knowledge and few key spells on it that allowed it to develop its own consciousness as more and more magical knowledge, spells, and tweaks were added over time. The earliest entry is from a guy named David."

Ilya shot up. "That tome of yours is an artifact from the Age of Gods?!"

Harry quickly placed his hands over her mouth. "Don't shout that!"

So after that Ilya and Harry had their small session of sibling-to-sibling conversation.

* * *

 ** _Kaleidoscope and What I saw_**  
 ** _by Shirley Z'takulli_**  
 ** _Apprentice to Zelretch the Kaleidoscope from 1930 to 1931_**

 _I ... saw a lot of things. This will be the final entry to my diary before I send myself to another world._

 _Yes, exactly right, another world._

 _When I became the apprentice of Zelretch, the Wizard Marshall, I was ecstatic. I was going to be learning one of the True Magics! At the time, I was a 23 year old woman with too much money, time, and knowledge on her hands without much motivation. Learning true magic would have been one motivation for me._

 _Except when I did find myself learning it, I changed. I began to see other worlds where versions of this world and myself lived their own lives._

 _It's actually funny that I met a version of myself doing the exact same thing. We saw each other and waved._

 _How funny is that? We don't even know what is the difference between her world and mine._

 _But enough gossip._

 _What I want others to know is what I saw._

 _I saw my own world, the very planet that you are standing on._

 _..._

 _Or more accurately, I saw the worlds that our planet was._

 _From our 3rd dimension point of view, we are living in a three dimension world with fourth being time. Do perceive time, but we cannot interact with the 4th nor any dimensions beyond that._

 _With Kaleidoscope, I was able to briefly look at our world from the perspective of a 4th dimensional being._

 _It was ... horrible._

 _I was able to see worlds not of different universes but the very same universe that we stand on for what it really was._

 _It was scary. Too scary._

 _It was like onion, except one of those layer is the world we live in. Layers beneath ours is the past and those outside, the future._

 _The future is in constant flux, and I have made conclusion that because future is in constant flux, time travel will be even more difficult that what that H.G. Wells wrote some four decades ago._

 _It is what I saw in those possible futures that I wanted to speak about._

 _I saw monsters, demons, empires, and republics that I simply could not comprehend._

 _How can I comprehend the existence of monsters and gods that casually devours planets not caring about anything that may live on it? Of gods who drive men insane because they themselves view us as alien? I see this world die every time I look. I see this world be raped every time I dare._

 _There's nearly hopeless._

 _Just like the Americans before the might of the Austrian Empire in World War II._

 _I chose to leave. This world has too many dead ends and deaths for me._

 _Forgive me for my cowardice._


	14. Chapter 14

And so with the defection of Ilya von Einzbern from the House of Einzbern to the Emiya Alliance, the Fifth Holy Grail War had taken a true shift in the balance of power.

Assassin and Gilagemsh along with their master, Kirei, were outnumbered, outpowered, and outgunned.

Rider and Archer was missing.

Berserker, Saber, Lancer, and Caster along with Kiritsugu, Ilya, Shirou, and Harry were in an alliance.

Kiritsugu didn't waste time. He kept Berserker, Shioru, Harry, and Ilya behind while he led Saber and Lancer to engage Kirei.

* * *

The battle was to take in front of the church where Kirei used as his base.

Gilgamesh was already waiting outside.

Assassin stood by his side with his insufferable orange book in his hand.

Kirei stood behind them.

Then the attack came.

The first attack was a sniper rifle fire aimed at Kirei.

Unfortunately for Kiritsugu, it was unsuccessful. Gilgamesh's Gate of Babylon opened up and shot down a esoteric shield of red and white to protect his 'master.'

"Uncouth mongrel, striking from the shadows," Gilgamesh growled. "That's this bastard's job!" he shouted as he jerked his thumb at Assassin.

Assassin looked up. "Did you say something?"

If anything, it only made Gilgamesh more angry.

Without order or prompt, Gilgamesh widened the output from from his Gate and began to launch unlimited rain down upon the forest surrounding the church.

Saber threw her master over her shoulder before jumping out of the ground he had set his rifle on.

Lancer appeared by their side as the forest around them erupted in fire.

Assassin was quick to disappear and engage Lancer, pushing him towards the erupting forest around them.

Saber and Kiritsugu was then left with Kirei and Gilgamesh, once more like the past.

"I was waiting for this day," Kirei said as he brandished his swords.

And then they clashed.

* * *

Gilgamesh struck first by opening a barrage of swords from his Gate.

Saber dutifully rushed in between Gilgamesh and her Master before parrying all strikes away with fluid and graceful ease. Then once the barrage stopped, she unhesitatingly charged in with a burst of prana in front of her.

Gilgamesh was forced to pull out a shield from the gate, but it marred his view.

Saber took advantage of this.

And activated something Kiritsugu had given her.

When Gilgamesh saw it, he didn't see how it could be important, not when it looked like she was trying to keep it out of his reach. So he struck at it.

Only to see Saber's grin just before she let it go.

"Boom."

Gilagamesh's eyes widened.

Too fast for him to defend himself, the explosion ruptured in front of his face.

And all of his swords disppeared with him.

Kirei's eyes widened. "I ... am surprised. You do not fought as you did last war," he told Saber.

Kiritsugu shrugged. "What can I say? I rubbed off on her."

Saber glared at him.

Then the two charged as one at Kirei.

* * *

Assassin and Lancer were ... fighting, but not in the sense that Saber, Kiritsugu, Gilgamesh, and Kirei had been.

No, they were fighting a mental war.

Both of them were masters of their respective field, and masters have their own mental war.

Each twitch of their limb, each peripheral look, and each change in the stance were enough for the two.

Suddenly, but perhaps not unexpectedly to those who know him, Kakashi pulled out his book again. "I surrender."

...

"What?"

* * *

Kirei was a master swordsman. Make no mistake, he was in the end only man, but even to that end, he was a master swordsman. He parried both Saber and Kiritsugu in tandem with his fan of swords.

Saber stood in the front, using her skills with her sword to make a variety of moves with such speed that most swordsman would not be able to parry. Especially not with the speed that she attacked and maneuvered.

Kiritsugu stood in the back with his pistols. Unlike last time, he did not use the antiqued guns. Instead, he used dual modern handguns, Smith & Wesson Model 500.

At the face of this new gun, empowered even more so with Wind runes that Kiritsugu inscribed into each bullet and on the barrel, Kirei found his supply of swords quickly dwindling and his prana running out.

In a gamble, Kirei threw a multitude of swords at Kiritsugu while he kept Saber tied down with another barrage.

Then to his surprise, Saber ignored the blades.

She dove through them, allowing them to strike and hit her in her shoulder and leg.

But with this surprise move, she unleashed Excalibur and struck down Kirei.

And with that, victory had come to the Emiya Alliance.

* * *

The battle was short and decisive. The sudden change of tactics and a little bit of dirty playing had done wonders.

Assassin officially changed hands to Kiritsugu, who took on the Servant out of gut feeling that he should.

Still...

There was no prolonged battle like the last war.

In fact, this war was over within three days' time.

Regardless, the entire Emiya Alliance gathered and celebrated their victory.

The next day, they went to where the Holy Grail was kept, and unleashed Saber's Excalibur.

It was over.

* * *

"...Then why aren't we disappearing?"

That leads the alliance to one question.

With the grail gone, the magi the Servants were bound to should not have been able to sustain the Servants. In fact, it had already been a day since the destruction of the Holy Grail and yet all of the Servants of the Emiya Alliance remained.

As one, they turned to Harry.

He was usually at fault for something like this.

Harry didn't look unhappy nor apprehensive about the situation as Kiritsugu was. Kiritsugu was half-convinced that the Holy Grail was not destroyed.

Kiritsugu frowned for a second before he looked about.

"Harry, what did you do?" he asked as he began to realize that something was off.

Harry grinned sheepishly. "Caster and I made some changes."

Now, it was everyone's turn to look at Tamamo.

"Caster?" Kiritsugu asked.

The fox-girl sheepishly chuckled as she scratched the back of her head. "W-Well, I realized that Master Harry used the wrong incantation in the first place-"

Everyone's head turned to Harry again.

"Harry?"

"I just used the incantation in the tome! See, here!" Harry quickly opened up the tome he was carrying around, not in his pocket dimension, and flipped through the pages. Once he found the page he was looking for, he quickly presented it to the rest of the family. "Here."

"... 'Summoning Spells for the Lonely.' What's with the title?"

Kiritsugu snatched the book from Harry, much to the boy's displeasure, and began to read through the chapter.

However as minutes passed by, he grew paler and paler.

"...Kiritsugu?" Saber asked, somewhat perturbed by the man's silence and growing paleness.

He ignored her and kept on reading.

Then, after five minutes of reading, he closed the book.

"...Lancer."

The man looked at him expectantly.

"...Caster."

The girl looked at him expectantly.

"Congratulations on your second bodies."

"What?!" Saber shouted as she shot up.

"Harry didn't use the Holy Grail's summoning rite," Kiritsugu explained. "It's a completely different ritual. Harry, how did you get the necessary power requirements for this?"

"Umm Umm Umm," Harry muttered before he paused. Everyone held their breath to hear the secret to this power source. "Ah, I remember! The land!"

"The land?" everyone but Harry repeated.

"Uh huh. The land. There was something in the ground. I think it was those leylines that the book talked about. So I stuck a sipping straw through it... I think."

This was a problem with Harry that Shirou and Kiritsugu had long recognized.

He talked in images instead of technical terms. It was nothing bad for a kid his age, but sometimes, it was irritating.

"Harry, please explain to me -"

"Umm, dad?" Ilya spoke up.

"Yes, Ilya?"

"I think Harry drained the local leyline."

"...What?"

Ilya quickly explained how when she entered the city, it had less mana in its air than the Black Forest, where no leyline passed through and where the Einzberns had their castle. She had found the fact that a spiritually rich land would lack mana in the air. In fact, she talked about how there was a distinct "drainage" of mana in the air. The ground held some that she could drain, but nothing outside of that. Even the amount that was there was slowly draining away as well.

Devoid of magic.

Kiritsugu had a blank face, but had he been anyone else, he would have been gawking in horror.

Shirou gawked in horror anyway.

"...We might want to leave Japan before their ministry comes after us."

* * *

However, they were not that lucky.

The Mage's Association had expected something from Kiritsugu, so they had sent a team of enforcers and a single diplomat.

No matter what anyone else may say, Mage's Association knew the cunning and power of Kiritsugu. They weren't willing to let someone like him away from their grasp.

Just when the Emiya Alliance was about to leave their home, they appeared.

50 Enforcers and 1 diplomat.

Lancer, Saber, Caster, and Berserker all got on guard. Ilya prepared what little magecraft she could under the circumstances.

Harry was busy reading the tome.

A veritable army by the standards of the Moonlit World, especially when all 50 of the Enforcers were veteran elites.

Kiritsugu knew he was trapped.

As powerful as the Servants were, their focus would be too split with 50 enemies.

The diplomat stepped up, and smiled.

"It's been a while, little boy."

"...Zelretch?"

The True Dead Apostle Ancestor, the Wizard Marshall, and the de facto "king" of the Mage's Association grinned. "Took a while for you to recognize me, eh?" he asked. "Bah, but let's get to negotiating. You know you're not leaving this place in one piece otherwise."

Kiritsugu frowned but nodded.

* * *

In the end, this was how it went.

Kiritsugu agreed to work for the Enforcers and Mage's Association. In return, Zelretch would provide personal protection for the entire "House of Emiya," which extended to the now truly living Servants.

Hell, Zelretch was just giddy knowing that there was now a truly living demigod, even if that said demigod was a man whose priority was fixed on protecting the Einzbern homunculus and had enough power to devastate Great Britain as a whole.

Some of the Enforcers voiced their disagreement with Zelretch.

Zelretch promptly knocked them out.

And that, ladies and gentlemen, was how the House of Emiya was brought to United Kingdoms of Great Britain and how the story truly starts.


	15. Chapter 15

Kiritsugu held onto his hands as they made their way through London's busy morning street.

Behind them, Lancer, Caster, and Saber walked in modern clothes. Saber wore the same black suit as she did last time she was among the living. Caster ... wore kimono and refused to change. She did, however, hide her fox tails and ears. Lancer wore own of Kiritsugu's own trenchcoat.

In front of Kiritsugu and Harry was Zelretch and three Enforcers, all dressed like normal mundane civilians.

They were just heading to the Clock Tower to get themselves checked out.

And as always, he had his tome in his arm.

Where was Ilya, Berserker, and Shirou? They were at a countryside house with five Enforcers who were there to ensure their safety against unscrupulous magi.

For Harry, this was a new experience. This city had so many old buildings! They were more life here than Tokyo or Fuyuki City. In fact, this city had as much old life as Kyoto!

Harry felt good being here... but why did he? If he learned anything from his tome, it was that he had to pay attention to details.

Details like the fact that he felt more energized here.

Why?

How?

What?

Harry had a lot of questions, but he knew that right now was not the time. Not when he was surrounded by mundanes and there were magi strangers.

He wondered when he would be able to ask.

* * *

Kiritsugu left Harry to his Servants.

Funny thing about his Servants.

He glanced around the edge of his eyes and saw Assassin nodding to him.

It seemed that whatever Harry did, it didn't just focus all of the mana in the Fuyuki leyline into the summoning. Avalon, the sheath within him, was fully charged and even more. In fact, it was no longer just body-healing Noble Phantasm but now it generated its own mana.

Kiritsugu discreetly glanced but half a second at the tome Harry held in his arms.

That tome was scary.

It was incredible, powerful, but above all, it was scary.

He turned to the Enforcers and Zelretch, and nodded. "Let's go," he said.

They led him into the Clock Tower.

As they made their way to the appointed meeting room, they passed by magi of various ranks. Those of the lower ranks reviled him. Those of the higher ranks feared him. He could see in their eyes. The lower ranks reviled him because he was the Magus Killer. Because he killed their dwindling kind. The higher ranks feared him, because should they step out of line, they will find themselves facing him.

After ten minute walk, Kiritsugu found himself standing before a pair of ornately made double doors. Zelretch pushed them open and walked in. He himself followed soon after.

Within the meeting room, there was a single round table with four chairs equally separated from each other. Of the four seats, two were already filled. One of the two held Bathomeloi Lorelei and the other held an unknown stranger dressed in a cowl.

"So this is the infamous Magus Killer. I heard you've been taking care of little children now," Barthomeloi commented. "I suppose you know who I am?"

Kiritsugu nodded. He had expected more of an aristocratic personality from the infamous Queen of the Clock Tower as his files suggested. Perhaps his files were wrong?

"Good," she replied. "Forgive me if I am not my usual self as your file suggests. Some ... irritating happenstance has pushed me a bit too close to the edge."

He raised an eyebrow. While it was not wise to admit such a thing to the other side of a negotiation table before the negotiation even starts, Kiritsugu doubted it would even matter. "I see," he said. Zelretch sat down and then he himself sat down on the last chair, which was the closest to the door. "What exactly do you want, though? This is hardly the normal procedure for registering a magus as an Enforcer."

Zelretch scoffed. "On the contrary, this is perfectly normal when we're talking with someone whose _militaristic_ authority matches our own."

Kiritsugu frowned. "What do you mean?"

"Come on, Emiya boy. Don't you think I haven't noticed what you've done in the Holy Grail War? I know that you still carry the Command Seals for two Heroic Spirits, and on top of that, you hold sway over the blades of three more Heroic Spirits. Six Heroic Spirits, and of the, two of whom are related to deities."

Kiritsugu narrowed his eyes, but didn't say anything. It was better to not speak in such situations lest you admit something.

Zelretch just barked out a laugh. "I told you he's no fun," he told Barthomeloi, who only scoffed at Zelretch.

She looked at Kiritsugu straight in the eye. "I don't care about who you command, except that you are a commander whose military authority is on par with ourselves here."

Internally, Kiritsugu was surprised and a bit honored. The two Wizard Marshall thought him to be on par with them?

"That said, we want to offer you a ... contract of sorts."

"State the terms."

"As independent Wizard Marshall, which will be your title from now on as far as the Mage's Association is concerned, you will not be hindered in any form by Mage's Association unless your action directly goes against any of the laws set by the Mage's Association. You will be given an area to govern outside of Clock Tower and will be responsible for raising and maintaining an order of magi that you will call upon in times of need. You will also work on a way to improve humanity relations to Gaia."

"...I find those terms to be oddly specific."

There was a pause before Barthomeloi sighed. "It's because of what's to come," she muttered as she pinched the bridge of her nose. "Zelretch can tell you in much better explanations, because all I can say is that we'll be facing an extrasolar threat."

"...Wait, what?"

* * *

While Kiritsugu was being surprised by the Wizard Marshalls of Clock Tower, rest of Emiya Alliance barring the trio outside of London were having fun.

Namely, using Zelretch's good money to buy sweets for themselves.

And souvenirs.

And clothes.

And visiting museums.

* * *

"Wait, wait, wait, what? Are you joking with me?"

Zelretch laughed. "I win that bet, Lorelei!" he cackled. "I told you that was going to break him!"

"Was that a joke or not?" Kiritsugu demanded.

The original Wizard Marshall's face blanked out before turning serious. "As serious as I'll ever be. All alternate universes in the same line as this universe had humanity pitted against extrasolar civilizations. Of the hundred alternate universes I saw of this -let's say branch-, seventy humanities suffered total annihilation at the hands of the extrasolar threat and Gaia itself was gutted."

"... You're gathering allies."

Bathomeloi smirked and glanced at Zelretch. "And you owe me now."

Zelretch just pouted.

Creepy old man, Kiritsugu, the stranger, and Lorelei all thought. Old men don't pout.

"Yeah, you're a fast one," Loreli said to Kiritsugu as she pushed the small pile of paperwork before her to him. "We're trying to find as much allies as we can gather, and you are one of the most powerful and the one who lines up the most with the views of Mage's Association."

"...And if I don't sign this?" It was always a possibility, so he wanted to know.

"If you don't, then Zelretch here simply does not provide you his protection and the Mage's Association as a whole will ignore you. At the same time, though, we won't prevent our more ... unscrupulous magi from going after you."

"'Join us or be hunted,' huh?"

"Not exactly what we want, if you don't agree to some of our terms, what else can we do?" Zelretch replied. "So what's it going to be, Emiya boy?"

* * *

Kiritsugu stuffed the "peace treaty" into a expanded pocket on his jacket.

He sighed.

In the end, he signed the "treaty," acknowledging himself as an associate with the Mage's Association and as a Wizard Marshall. 'I suppose 2 resurrected Heroic Spirits and 2 still active Servants count as an army,' he thought with a chuckle.

It had come to him as a surprise when Zelretch and Loreli considered him an equal on militaristic setting. It was also very chilling, because part of the treaty had been that if he were to involve himself with the taboo, specifically vampirification research, the two Wizard Marshall shall spare no expense taking him down.

He was apparently that much of a threat as well as an asset to them.

He also had to choose a name for his "order" of magi, and Emiya Alliance was the only thing he could have thought of at the moment.

And there was another surprise.

Alien invasion.

He wanted to laugh about that, but now that he had an order of magi to build, it wasn't so laughable anymore.

On top of all this, though, Gaia wanted peace with humanity.

He had grown up learning and thinking the very opposite. Now Gaia was willing to set aside past grudges because of an alien threat?

Kiritsugu wondered if he should be scared of this new threat or laugh his ass off at the comic book-like scenario.

But he was Kiritsugu Emiya: he does not laugh like a baffoon in the public. Thus, he chose to be scared.

Because being scared was infinitely better than underestimating an enemy as often as those who are not scared of threats do.

* * *

When Kiritsugu found his party again, he was shocked.

Saber in a frilly dress.

Lancer in a frilly dress.

Caster in a frilly dress.

The Enforcers in frilly dresses.

Harry? In a frilly dress.

"What the hell happened here?"

The Enforcers turned around and snapped to attention.

"Apologies, Marshall Emiya," the leader of the four Enforcers saluted. "We are unsure of what happened ourselves." With that, he and the other Enforcers quickly made their way away from the entrance of Clock Tower to wherever Enforcers had their changing room.

Kiritsugu raised an eyebrow and met Harry's eyes.

"It wasn't me!"

Caster giggled as she waved her hands.

The frilly dresses disappeared and everyone was wearing normal clothes again. Kiritsugu turned around and saw that the Enforcers were staring confusedly at each other.

Harry pouted at Caster. "I almost took the fall for that!"

"Oh, Emiya boy."

Kiritsugu frowned and turned around. Zelretch was calling for him. The old Dead Apostle Ancestor waved him over, and Kiritsugu grunted as he went.

"What is it?"

"By the way, about that tome..." he said as he glanced over Kiritsugu's shoulder, even as the man tensed. "Don't ever let it out of your sight."

Kiritsugu raised an eyebrow, inviting the vampire to say what he knew about the tome.

Instead of answering, Zelretch just grinned and walked away.

* * *

After the business in Clock Tower was finished, Kiritsugu led the rest to the cabin where Ilya, Berserker, and Shirou were.

"So it went well?" Shirou asked as he cooked.

Everyone grinned. They all loved Shirou's food too much.

Kiritsugu nodded. "It went well, although we now may to take more people in."

That got everyone's attention, and Shirou turned off the stove and walked into the living room.

As soon as Shirou did so, the bright eyes of the entire family turned dull and depressed. They turned to Kiritsugu, demanding quick answers.

This cabin was big. Not as big as Emiya Manor was in Fuyuki City, but big enough to house all of the Emiya Alliance comfortably.

"... Thanks to all of you, I have gained the title of Wizard Marshall, and now I must fulfill the requirement of constructing my own order of magi," he just laid it out.

Ilya, being the only real magi in the entire Emiya Alliance, gawked.

"A-A wizard marshall?!" she stuttered. "They gave you that big of a title?!"

Kiritsugu chuckled.

Shirou raised his hand. "Umm, I don't think most of us gets how big of a deal that title is. Someone mind explaining to us?" he asked, gesturing to Saber, Lancer, Caster, and himself.

Ilya jumped on quickly on the chance. "Well, the closest mundane comparison would be that Wizard Marshalls are independent generals. They have under them large amount of elite soldiers who do as they order. It is said within Mage's Association that a single Wizard Marshall has the military power comparable to nations."

Shirou nodded, looked pensive for a while, and then stood up, leaving for the kitchens again.

"Wait, doesn't that mean that you're now associated with Mage's Association?" Ilya asked.

Kiritsugu nodded. "I am. To that end, they have also given me the rank of Brand and the title of Second Owner of Highland of Scotland."

Ilya frowned. "Wait, isn't that...?"

Kiritsugu grinned. "Considering that you, Shirou, and Harry will be attending that school, I thought it best if I would be the Mage's Association liaison to British Wizarding World. Yes, I am now Second Owner of the land called the Forbidden Forest."

* * *

 _Mage's Association and British Wizarding World as I saw it (1931)_  
 _by Alfred de Volifreild_

 _As a mage who studied most of my teen years and most of my golden era in the Clock Tower, I was completely unfamiliar with British Wizarding World. From my perspective, they were so medieval and backwater that I found myself scoffing._

 _I mean, after all, no witch or wizard are truly human; all of them possess some sort of phantasmal beast lineage. The Veela happen to possess a lineage stronger than most, but in the end, they carry the blood of phantasmal beasts, which is why they had magical cores instead of magic circuits. Still, I am the 19th head of the de Volifrelid magus family. I must be a gentleman, especially so because I was appointed the Second Owner of the Forbidden Forest._

 _When I met the Headmaster Armando Dippet, a wizard who had lived for over 300 years when I met him, I was ... impressed._

 _After all, Armando Dippet was then considered to be the strongest wizard as it was the tradition for the strongest wizard of Britain to take the rein of Hogwarts's headmaster position. Being 300 years old probably also gave him a large berth of experience too._

 _I quickly discovered why the wizarding community differed from the magi communities._

 _One reason was because the magi segregated any wizard or witch who came into their community. Reasons ranged from contaminating their pure family line to just being odd (I mean, they still wear robes!)._

 _Second reason was because wizards and witches also segregated magi in their communities. Their reasons were more morally complicated._

 _So with the communities both not liking each other, of course they "evolved" differently!_

 _Because the magi kept up with times, the wizards and witches sought to maintain status quo._

 _Because the wizards and witches maintained a steady usage of wands and staves, the magi pushed those mystic codes away in favor of more personalized ones._

 _So on and so on._

 _I actually found that my own perception of the wizardkin had been influenced by such ideas and thoughts._

 _It took me a while but I ..._

 _(Harry closed the book. This was no fun read)._


	16. Chapter 16

**Some of you guys want too many questions too fast. Don't you know patience?**

 **Anyways, enjoy this new chapter.**

* * *

 **April 14th, 2007**

* * *

" _Comparison of the Wavelengths of mana used in Wizard magic and Magus magecraft_."

Ilya stared at the title before she read into the essay.

Just like Harry before her, she read deep into the Obscure Tome. In fact, the two children of the Emiya Alliance were truly the only ones to do so.

Shirou had his blood magic to master, which he practiced every night.

Kiritsugu was more interested in not looking into the tome than learning.

At first, Ilya was confused.

She knew how dangerous a grimoire could be, especially in the wrong hands, but surely it couldn't be worse than vampirification...?

It was only after she looked into tome she slowly understood.

There were so many heretical documents, essays, and researches as well as orthodox ones in this tome that she was baffled they even existed. In fact, blood magic was one such magecraft that she had been so baffled by.

Then things like this came up.

 _"- could say that wizard magic only has one issue to deal with when it comes to identification: magical signature. On the other hand, magus has to contend with the caster's magical signature, nature of magecraft being used, and -"_

In those two statements alone, new and old things had been thrown into order within her mind as if puzzles were coming together.

Magical identification was a field so convoluted and unorthodox that no one in Mage's Association and European Schools of Magic, which was really an international association of Austrian, Polish, Russian, Hungarian, and Turkic schools and organizations of magi, practiced them.

She knew that magical identification was common among the wizardkin, yes, but now she understood why.

But at the same time...

 _"... Ooh, a cherry pie."_

It had these random phrases added.

That's why it was both a puzzle maker and a breaker. The knowledge within gave her the right tools to put her own overall network of information together, but the random weird things made her doubt the validity of some of these authors.

At least, this essay only had one weird phrase.

She closed the tome as the headache wore on her.

She also noticed one thing about the tome. Unlike the rest of Emiya Alliance barring Caster, Ilya knew that she was the best at sensing mana, prana, and od.

She noticed that every time she opened this tome, something within it activated. Once activated, it latched onto her magic circuits and leeched her prana at a pace that was unnoticeable... or would have been unnoticeable if she were not who she was with her heightened senses. At the same time, she noticed how the tome was, for the lack of better phrase, fixing her deficiencies.

As a homunculus, no matter the origin, Illyasviel von Einzbern had a very short lifespan. She knew this and had accepted it.

What the tome was doing? It was changing her. She was not becoming a human, no, but she was definitely becoming ... better. Stronger. On top of that, her magic circuits, which made up over 70% of her body, was being reduced. Oh, it wasn't a bad thing though.

As the tome reduced the number of magic circuits and replacing them with much more vital organs and revitalizing her, it was also turning the raw magic circuit into lumps of prana. The tome then used the prana converted from circuit nodes into "upgrading" -for a lack of better word- her still existing magic circuits.

When the Einzberns surgically implanted all of those magic circuits into her, they were aiming for strong magical energy foundation able to support a Servant outside of the Holy Grail War. They wanted their victory too much, though. Rather than giving her large quantity of magic circuits that produced average amounts of magical energy units, they gave her an _above average_ quality circuits.

Indeed, before the tome got its "hands" on her, she possessed over a 1,000 magic circuits with each capable of producing 50 units of magical energy.

To put that into perspective, an average magus had 20 magic circuits that produced 50 units of magical energy, which gave the average magus the average reserve of 1,000 units, while she had 50,000.

Output was whole different matter. To support Berserker, a Servant, they also had to give her a lot of output. This was where she and the average magus differed.

An average magus would be able to put out maybe a tenth of their reserve at any given moment.

Her? She could spit out a quarter of her entire reserve, but considering that she had to support Berserker without the Holy Grail, her output was at most ten times greater than that of the average magus.

Of course, all of this was _before_ the tome got its "hands" on her.

Once it did, the number of her magic circuits dropped from 1,000 to a smidgen 500. To her, that was a smidgen.

But the quality...? Oh, the blessed quality!

The circuits that once produced 50 units of magical energy were now producing upwards to 300 on average. So 500 magic circuits producing 300 each. 150,000 units of magical energy.

She could bring upwards to three Berserkers and be _perfectly fine_!

During this miraculously and almost unnoticeable changes the tome was working on her, it took its fair share of mana into itself. This was how she discovered it. Had the tome not taken any and just circulated all mana in her body, she wouldn't have discovered it. She would have taken the swirling mana within her as an effect of reading the tome, which did have a lot of truly obscure and heretical knowledge. She wouldn't pass it on the composer and editor of the book to put some kind of a defense mechanism.

It took a lot of mana too.

For every magic circuit it converted into mana, which was a slow process, it took nearly one hundred units, and that was only like ten percent of the total mana converted from a magic circuit to mana conversion.

One hundred units of mana! That was enough units of magical energy to power a magi's workshop for _weeks_.

And how many had the tome converted -which she allowed?

500 of them.

50,000 units of mana just stored up inside the book.

It was here that she wondered about Harry's own ability to read the tome.

The amount of time Harry spent reading the tome could be counted in thousands of hours according to Shirou and her father.

So why was Harry not feeling any effect? He was also a wizard, so what did the tome do to him? How did it interact with a magical core, which was different from magic circuit?

"Ilya?"

She opened her eyes and looked at Harry, who looked uncomfortable with her not doing anything but just sitting there with her eyes closed. "Yes?" she asked.

"Are you okay?"

She smiled. "Just a bit tired," she said as she slid the tome over to him. "And curious."

She would have to discuss with father and Caster.

* * *

It had been nearly two years since they moved to United Kingdom, Shirou commented to himself.

He didn't know what to think, though.

Unlike Fuyuki City, the people here seemed bit more blunt and weathered. It was in the way they spoke.

In Japan, regardless of where you were, a normal person would apologize when you run into them.

That's right, the person who _you_ ran into, not the other way around, would apologize.

In England, they would cuss you off with such a language, Shirou was learning.

For example...

"Bloody fucktard of an assclown who can't even suck a limp dick properly to save his fucking, useless life. Some bastard probably slapped you senseless with his elephant trunk dick, didn't he?" So on and so on.

His father had not been so happy about that, though.

At least, Shirou wouldn't lose in a schoolyard verbal showdown.

Speaking of verbal showdown, Shirou wondered what had happened to Rin.

From what he learned, Rin had been the Second Owner of the Fuyuki City, which was a spiritually rich spot due to how close the leyline had been to the surface and how well distributed it was.

The very same leyline that Harry had drained using some kind of ritual to give life to Tamamo no Mae (Caster) and Vlad Dracula (Lancer).

If it could resurrect someone from the Throne of Heroes, the power required had to be astronomical, which was exactly what an entire leyline was: astronomical.

Shirou shuddered.

He didn't want to think about what a Second Owner's reaction would be.

* * *

Unknown to Shirou, Rin was already in London demanding compensation from the "Emiya Alliance" that had made itself into a magi orgazation affiliated with Mage's Association.

* * *

On the other hand, his own studies into his blood magic had been going well. Or should he be calling it hemeocraft?

From what he understood from the Obscure Tome, blood magic was very likely to be a fragment of the Third True Magic Heaven's Feel. In such case, would it be more correct to call blood magic as blood magic rather than magecraft?

...

Gah, he was not one for such things.

He was, however, good for things like this...

"So?" he asked.

His father stood across from him. Between them on and on top of the table laid a shortsword on top of a white cloth. His father picked it up and inspected it. He turned it left and right, held it horizontally, and did much more maneuvers before he nodded.

Then he slashed at his own arm, and Shirou flinched.

No blood spilled, and mere seconds later, the wound closed.

"This is good."

Shirou grinned.

This was his work. He was advancing his own blood magic according to the element and origin he held: Steel and Blade. While learning the mundane education, mostly involving finance, science, and literature, he spent hours after school to forging better blades with better concepts.

Mainly, he focused around three concepts: healing, shielding, cutting.

Once he had a concept down on a project, which was a sword he forged, he would add more concepts into the sword. This would repeat until Shirou realized the sword had managed its maximum conceptual limit.

The sword his father was holding was on its second stage, and thus two concepts. It held the concepts "healing" and "blood-less."

Considering his father cut himself, didn't bleed, and healed from it, it was successful.

He also found out that swords whose concepts he stacked became more and more powerful. For example, his first ever creation had one concept: removal of curse. Specifically, the concept had been "removal of any curse affecting his father, Emiya Kiritsugu."

It turned out to be absolutely useless at anything else other than removing curses.

"Argh," he muttered as he slumped.

He was tired, and he should be so. After all, he had spent a total of twenty hours of his weekend on this sword alone.

"Good job. You are improving very well," Kiritsugu said with a smile.

Shirou smiled back with a thumbs up.

* * *

Having nothing else to do, Vlad was out hunting squirrels with a "airsoft gun." Surprisingly, he loved the sport, especially after squirrels, rats, and all kinds of rodents ate away at his garden and stole his snack nuts.

* * *

Tamamo kept herself busy with housework, and tried to get married to Shirou.

Well, trying. She was still trying. Shirou's response would be a red-faced embarrassed sputter most of the time.

* * *

Hatake Kakashi, or John Smith as he was calling himself now days, took to the Dead Apostle hunting with his Master like a fish to the water. When he was off the job, though, he was buys collecting eroge.

* * *

Arturia Pendragon, or Lily Artorius as she registered herself under Shirou and Ilya's insistence of getting a new name, kept to her post as security chief and caretaker of the Emiya Alliance.

That and Shirou's food inspector. All new dishes went through her first.

* * *

Berserker always stood by Ilya's side, or training with

* * *

In midst of all this, Harry did little other than reading his tome.

He didn't go out because he didn't have mundane friends he was interested in. He didn't have any other hobby because the tome was too fun for him to read. Well, he did help with Vlad's garden, but nothing aside from that. And tasting Shirou's food. And being forced into physical training by Lily.

'Actually, he was doing a lot of things,' Kiritsugu now observed.

"Sir."

Kiritsugu turned around.

A man in black business suit stood in attention.

"Ah, Tyler. What have you got for me?"

Tyler here was of wizard-magus lineage, possessing both his paternal family's Magic Crest and his maternal heritage of possessing a magical core. However, this had forced the young man out of both societies and forced him to live in the mundane world. After all, no 'upstanding' wizard was going to hire a magus and no 'true' magus was going to employ a wizard.

Kiritsugu mentally shook his head.

Their loss, his gain.

He found the young man toiling in the mundane world without a proper mundane education, forcing him into physical labor jobs and whatnot. At least the man had the sense to use discrete Reinforcement to help himself. When Kiritsugu found him, he did not waste any time and hired the man.

"Mage's Association sent you the annual report for the Forbidden Forest," Tyler said as he pulled out a thin envelope from his suitcase.

"Ah, yes. I've been expecting it for some time," he said as he took it. He pulled the documents out and inspected the report right there. "...There's a nest of acromantula?" he frowned.

"Yes, according to Mage's Association, the nest had been on their list of extermination due to how close the nest was to a wizarding community, but the constant rise of dead apostles and other more diplomatic missions has left the association without any agents or group of them capable of carrying the deed out."

"I see."

A nest of acromantula was indeed a concern, especially since the Emiya Alliance was going to set up their headquarter in the Forbidden Forest itself.

After all, the cabin they were in, however large and comfortable it was for their current group, was nowhere big enough to truly house a new order of magi.

'Especially with the extraterrestrial threat approaching...' Kiritsugu thought. 'I also have to ask Zelretch about it. Get as much information about the invasion as possible.'

"I guess we'll be taking this mission. Is there a reward on it?"

Tyler looked surprised but within a second, he composed himself and pulled out a tablet.

While magus may not incorporate all of mundane technology, information was sharing through the internet was too good for even the magi to pass up. Considering that the sites used by the Mage's Association was also in the deep web, they didn't have to worry about mundane government or citizen stumbling into it. Too bad the International Confederation of Wizards refused to use "muggle technology."

As for the occasional hackers who got through the hundreds of encryption, fake servers, and a series of black boxes that did not follow computer logic or language, enforcers took very quick and quiet care of them.

"Mage's Association has a eight thousand pound bounty on elimination of the nest and grants the rights to harvest any acromantula related materials," Tyler quickly read. "But the actual harvesting is not going to be completely up to us."

Kiritsugu nodded as he noticed Tyler's frown.

He understood Tyler's lack of enthusiasm about the harvesting bit. No one wants to get griddy and niddy with the smelly corpses of huge spiders that may be faking their death.

Sometimes it was situations like this that had Kiritsugu scoffing.

'Your research may kill you, your rival may kill you, your body may kill you, or hey, that giant spider may kill you too,' he satired.

"I guess it can't be helped. We'll have to hire some helpers. Can you find out who's available in the Clock Tower?"

Tyler looked through some pages before shaking head. "No one has signed themselves up, not that we expected much."

That was also another thing. While the information network through the internet was a huge boon to the researchers at large, the "nobles" of the Clock Tower and Mage's Association at large didn't do much else with it.

The deep web site run by Mage's Association, which was unoriginally named Mage's Association, had a lot of features; whoever they hired to design the web had been very experienced in web designing. It was user friendly, too. Some of the features were job search, material request, market, and student courses for those in the Clock Tower.

Again, the nobles didn't care. They demanded people do this their way, which was the old way.

So with majority of the people going directly to the nobles for anything, it was unlikely that he and Emiya Alliance was going to find anyone on the site.

"I suppose I'll have to go look for volunteers in the wizarding world then," Kiritsugu muttered with a sigh.

The British Wizarding World, or more specifcally...

 _Diagon Alley._

* * *

 **Enjoyed it? Hated it? Liked it? Disliked it? Leave a review.**

 **But before you do so, here are some points:**  
 **1\. Story is AU.**  
 **2\. Timeline has been shifted forward for HP to meet F/SN timeline.**  
 **3\. Not everything will be pinpoint exact as the information given in Fate series, but this is AU, deal with it.**


	17. Chapter 17

**Hmm, since in 1999 Shirou was 10 and Harry was 3, in 2007, Shirou would be 18 and Harry would be 11, no?**

 **As for the name that Saber chose for public occasions, the name Lily comes from Saber Lily, who is a more feminine and romantic version of the Saber we know. Romantic as in idealist and idolizer, not love romance.**

 **Anyways, enjoy the new chapter.**

* * *

Kiritsugu, being the learned and experienced man he was, decided that before he went to Diagon Alley, he would need to research the current climate of magical Britain.

It was not long before he learned that there was no more "magical Britain." The wizarding communities in Britain had split up.

Ireland had been their own nation for some time, both muggle and wizarding. What surprised Kiritsugu was the independence of magical Wales and magical Scotland. The details were a bit vague -Mage's Association didn't _care_ about the internal squabbling of wizardkin as long as it didn't break the International Statute of Secrecy.

But it did give Kiritsugu a bit to work with.

The current wizarding English world had become sensitive to the issue, so it was best if he didn't bring it up.

At the same time, he was a foreigner, and thus he was more likely to be scrutinized for anything he did. Foreigners were always scrutinized in wary times. He also realized that recruitment from the British wizarding communities was going to be tough ... or perhaps easier.

In times like these when people didn't know who was right and wrong, giving a reason to their lives, a purpose to living, might win them over.

Well, considering that he was considered a magus, it might be hard, but still.

In the end, it was up to the individuals he wanted to hire to accept or reject his offer.

With that in mind, he asked Saber to come with him, and she agreed.

She commented about seeing the remnants of her once mentor Merlin's descendants.

* * *

Lily -Saber- frowned.

The Leaky Cauldron was supposedly the public connection between muggle London and Diagon Alley, but it was horrible disguised and ill-kept.

Lily looked around the pub and found it wanting.

Kiritsugu, on the other hand, didn't care as much. Instead, he simply passed through with Lily in tow.

"Haven't seen you around before," the barkeeper, Tom, said as he put his rag down. "How can I help you?"

Kiritsugu, who had just entered the bar, turned to greet Tom. "Hello, sir. I'm here to enter Diagon Alley, but I do not know how to enter."

"...Where are you from?" Tom asked.

"Japan," Kiritsugu replied. "My adopted son will soon be attending Hogwarts soon, so I thought I should ... immerse myself in the local culture."

"Are you a muggle -the non-magical folk?"

Kiritsugu shook his head, but didn't elaborate. It was probably best if he didn't say that he was a magi, even if he was recognized as wizard marshall.

Tom's desposition changed. Not too much, but enough for Kiritsugu to know that there may be a distinct indifference -even disdain- for mundanes. 'This might be troublesome...' he thought.

Last time he had been in British wizarding world, wizards and witches were welcoming of mundane-born. Tom here may not have seen Kiritsugu then, but Kiritsugu had seen the man greet mundane-borns with a smile.

"Well, I advise against going in Diagon Alley."

He raised an eyebrow. "Why not?"

"There's been rumors about another Dark Lord on the rise. I myself am not too keen on the rumors, but when you hear more than a few saying similar things ... you learn to be wary."

Kiritsugu nodded slowly. "I see."

More issues.

Perhaps he had come here in vain? After all, the rise of a Dark Lord would put too many potential employees out from the job market.

'Maybe it would be best if I just trained Vlad or Berserker to do the harvesting...' Kiritsugu thought as he nodded to Tom and went towards the entrance of Diagon Alley.

He tapped stone bricks and waited as the bricks moved away in dramatic fashion.

Just as he expected, though, there was a distinct lack of the usual enthusiasm.

Oh, everything was bright and there were many shoppers, but there were few details he didn't miss.

For one, there was a severe lack of children. He understood that April was not exactly the time of the year where children would be found in droves in Diagon Alley; they were still supposed to be in school, Hogwarts or wherever else.

However, it was a Saturday as well. Time for families to relax and go out and get a snack.

He saw no families.

He saw a few couples and some tall teenagers, but most of the people in Diagon Alley right now were full-fledged adults.

'So there actually is something going on,' Kiritsugu thought.

"Kiritsugu."

He glanced at Saber.

"What is it?"

"Straight ahead on the other side of the street."

He looked.

Right where the alley split off another alley, a group of hooded individuals walked out. They were in full body black cloaks, so he couldn't tell anything about them. He also saw that people avoided them by a wide margin.

"Who do you think they are?" Kiritsugu asked a nearby wizard.

The wizard, a scruffy bearded man wearing dark blue robes, raised an eyebrow. He paused in his shopping and turned to regard Kiritsugu. "You don't know about 'em?" he asked.

Kiritsugu deadpanned. "Why else would I be asking?"

The man barked out a laugh. "True that, young lad!" he chuckled, but his mirth died down quickly as he turned to regard the black hooded and cloaked group. "Those bastards would be the followers of the new dark lord, the one that's been controlling the entire political field of the Witengamot. Personally, I think the bastard used to follow You-Know-Who in the old days, but -"

Kiritsugu tuned the rest of the man's rant out.

'So this new Dark Lord is going for the political route,' he thought. 'But he doesn't spare anyone not with him, if this wizard's rant is anything of indication.'

"-just bloody wish that someone did something about 'em-"

'This man talks a lot too,' he thought in addition.

But on to other matter, Kiritsugu knew that he would have to avoid that group if he didn't want to stir up trouble.

He certainly did not want to involve himself in any politics, especially not as a wizard marshall. People in general were going to harass him to death if he did so.

"-and then just last week, they kidnapped a bunch of muggleborn children!"

...Okay, maybe he did need to get himself involved. Kidnapping children was a move that crossed the line for Kiritsugu.

"I see..." he replied. "It's time for me to move on, though."

"Oh, of course. Thank you for listening to this man."

Kiritsugu gave the wizard a weak smile before he moved on.

'First, I hire the people I need to clear out the Forbidden Forest...' And on he planned for the future with a footnote in his mental checklist to rid of this new British Dark Lord.

* * *

While Kiritsugu was analyzing and learning about the British wizarding world, Harry and Shirou, the least experienced of the Emiya Alliance, were learning more about magic and magecraft from Tamamo.

One must not forget that Tamamo, despite having been mortal at one point, was and still is a fragment of a deity. There was much a deity had to teach to mortals, and Tamamo, in her ever pursuit to become the perfect wife, decided that teaching magic and magecraft to the two fit her bill of what was a perfect wife.

After all, it was the wife's job to support her husband as her husband was to support her, was it not?

Their first lesson with Tamamo herself was to be, unfortunately, housekeeping magecraft. Few spells from both wizardkin and magus communities.

She had good good reasons, though.

One, while magus lacked a lot of "housekeeping" spells because of their bias that it was a waste of magical energy, they had great spells used in research that could be used for housekeeping. A good example of this was the "line cutter" spell.

Line Cutter spell was a spell that was similar to the Severing Charm used frequently in wizardkin spell combat. However, the difference between the two was that the former was very small in area of effect; the spell had a maximum linear cutting distance of 1 centimeter.

Yup, just 1 centimeter. The spell was developed specifically for dissection. Yes, the spell is not exactly a good spell.

Two, the wizardkin housekeeping spell was good for training constant magical energy output.

What many beginning magus, wizards, and witches do not understand is the difference between output, reserve, and control.

None of them equal each other.

A wizard may have a reserve that can drown the world, but if his output rate is less than the pissing stream's width, all he can do is be a battery for some unscrupulous magus.

A magus may have output that exceeds their own reserve, but if their output and reserve are both _small_ , they are weak.

While a magi's reserve cannot change by natural means, output could be.

It was in the end the control that gave the magic user the conscious handling of the spell itself.

Now, Shirou severely lacked output rate. He had plenty of control and reserve, but insignificant output rate.

Harry, on the other hand, had a huge output rate, which only kept on increasing, but no control whatsoever (and the funny thing is, his reserve was _naturally_ growing, which should not be possible...).

To this end, she had decided that having Shirou and Harry train on their control and output rate would be the best.

Thus, housekeeping spells.

"Tamamo."

Caster turned around and found herself looking at the petite form of Ilya.

"What is it, Ilya?" she asked.

"I need to talk to you. In private."

"Is this a girl problem?"

"...No."

"Okay." Tamamo turned to the struggling duo boys, gave them a quick instruction to continue to practice, and followed after Ilya. She followed Ilya to the isolated corner of the large cabin they lived in. This room was the "reading corner" of the house, where Harry spent most of his time. There were couches, nice comfy rug, and furs. Once Tamamo was inside, Ilya quickly activated a rune circle. Tamamo inspected it. "Sound blocker?" she muttered as she read the rune scripts.

"In private, I did say," Ilya shrugged.

"Okay, what's this about?" she asked as she found a chair and sat down.

"This."

With that, Ilya pulled out the Obscure Tome from underneath a couch pillow.

Tamamo's eyes instantly narrowed.

"What do you know about this?" she asked.

"A lot, but not enough."

Ilya raised an eyebrow. "And you didn't say anything?"

"It's not a bad thing to have near you. Just ... chaotic."

"Chaotic," Ilya repeated as she stared at the book in her hand. "Yeah, that fits the bill."

"What did it do to you?"

Ilya looked up. "Me?"

"Yeah. It does something to everyone who reads it," Tamamo said with a flick of her tail. "Even gods are not exempt from that ... thing."

Ilya looked stunned. In fact, from Tamamo's point of view, Ilya looked absolutely thunderous.

"W-w-what?! How can that be?!"

Tamamo giggled at Ilya's childish outburst. "Oh, you poor thing, did reality make you stutter?" she giggled.

Ilya frowned. "Shut it. You still haven't explained this to me," the homunculus growled as she waved the book around.

Tamamo frowned. "Even if I wanted to, I wouldn't. Somethings are better left buried, especially where _that book_ is concerned. Not even the chaotic deities born of humans would dare to spread that book's existence."

Despite having said so little, Tamamo had actually said a lot, Ilya realized.

First, Tamamo spoke as if even the other gods knew of the book's existence, and being a fragment of Amateratsu herself, Tamamo was a well versed, well known, very powerful, and very connected individual. Perhaps not in the human-sense, but she was.

Second, chaotic gods would shy away from this thing?

Then why the hell was she not chucking it out of the window?

"Don't chuck it out of the window, Ilya. It tends to find its way back to the individual it deems ... worthy."

"The book is alive."

"No, no. Well, kind of."

"...Kind of?"

* * *

While Ilya and Tamamo were delving into the depths of the mystery that the Obscure Tome was, Berserker, Vlad, and Assassin (or Kakashi Hatake as he revealed himself to the EA) were relaxing.

To the three, this peaceful time was something from a fantasy.

Berserker came from the era of Mediterranean city-states, who were always at war with on another.

Assassin came from a forgotten era when nations always fought each other over the smallest of errors.

Vlad fought off the Ottomans with a fervor that made people sick of him. Hell, there's a reason he got the nickname "Impaler."

So to just relax and not fight...

Fantasy.

And they loved it.

* * *

On the other hand, Rider and Sakura, the last Master and Servant duo still in Fuyuki City, were wondering where everyone else went.

Once Rider managed to ditch Shinji to his inevitable and pitifully woeful style of death, Rider had returned to Sakura's side. From there, Sakura managed to prepare enough gasoline and lit the Matou Mansion on fire. Zouken attempted to escape, but Rider successfully managed to get the big worm to burn with the rest of his familiars.

She was free, and now she had a holy grail to win.

So she waited ... and waited ... and waited ... and-

"Master, I think all of the masters are gone."

Sakura glared at Rider. She knew that already. But where did they go?

Even her Shirou-senpai and cutie Harry was gone. Had they both been Masters? She would have to ask them once she found them, but how would she find them?

"...Well, Harry and Shirou-senpai both didn't finish school, so he has to go _somewhere_ for his education," she pondered. "I wonder if the school would have any clues about that."

At least Shirou-senpai would have some form of record in their high school because he studied where she did for a year. She didn't know where Harry went to school.

She sighed.

"Senpai, why did you leave me behind?"

"To be fair, I don't think they knew you were a Master or even in love with-"

Sakura blushed in embarrassment. "Please don't remind me."

* * *

 **I was also late to my genetics finals on 5/6/2016. T^T**


	18. Chapter 18

**100k views. Yay!**

 **Was late to Genetics Final. Realized I spent way too much time on fanfiction, writing and reading. So I'm laying off on both by uploading two chapters per week together for both Re:Gamer and Obscure tome. Ilyasviel's School is going to be in the backburner for a while. Ilya is in this story anyways :P**

 **Anyways, enjoy.**

* * *

 _The Feared Oriental Demon King_

 _The origin of the Oriental Demon King is shrouded in mysterious, despite the hard and blood sweating work of nearly hundreds of magi scouring the entirety of Korean peninsula, Chinese mainland, and Japanese isles, which had its moonlit communities live under the Oriental Demon King's rule from 2099 BC to 655 AD. For three thousand years, this single individual ruled the eastern moonlit with a might that matched King Solomon of Israel, the beloved king of the biblical God._

 _However, there are many concrete facts known about the Oriental Demon King._

 _For one, many of the mundane and magical houses can trace their lineage to him. One of these houses include the Tenno lineage itself._

 _The Oriental Demon King was also known for his plethora of magecraft and magic. Like the Magic God Solomon, he was a master of evocation. Rather than bring in the demon gods to his service, however, the Oriental Demon King subjugated the existing gods of the orients. His first target, as the records say, was the weak gods of the Korean peninsula._

 _Due to the native people there putting less emphasis on myths and more on shamanism, the gods lacked enough piety on their side to fuel their power as the Greek pantheon would have done in their place. With neither the piety nor the belief the deities use as fuel for their own power, the Korean gods were an easy picking for the Demon King._

 _Once he subjugated the Korean gods, he tackled mainland China, who deities were just a tad bit better off than the Korean gods._

 _From their, he took on the Tengri pantheon and eventually the Japanese pantheon._

 _It was the Japanese pantheon that the Demon King had trouble with, and the ones that he exterminated down to a mere hundred in his first conquest. Unlike China and Korea, the Japanese were much more true to their belief of their local pantheon, and this led to the Japanese pantheon being much more stronger than the Chinese or Korean gods._

 _However, this was also a bad thing._

 _Because the people of the Japanese islands were more focused on earning their gods' favors, they were not so great at their own arts, which the Chinese and Koreans excelled in._

 _The Demon King spread chaos with disease and wars, causing the people to being to doubt their pantheon. When this lack of belief struck a critical point with a massacre of entire city, the Demon King subjugated the most powerful deity of the Japanese pantheon, Amaterasu._

 _Some accounts say that he paraded his "greatest" conquest around on the streets of Kyoto with a leash around her neck along with ten other Japanese pantheon gods and goddesses._

 _After that, everything else was easy._

 _By the time he had finished his subjugation conquest of the gods, he had more than three thousand gods under his direct command._

 _He then wielded them like a hammer against the moonlit world's residents. It is for this reason that he is called the Oriental Demon King._

 _No wizard or phantasmal beast was safe from him, not even the fabled and feared dragons._

 _No shamanic alliance that sought to usurp his rule of then known world lived._

 _He ruled with such an iron fist that when he ordered the residents of the Okinawa Islands to be exterminated, no one so much as squeaked in protest._

 _They would rather kill innocent people than face the wrath of the Demon King._

 _However, he disappeared in 655 AD near the fall of Goguryeo, the most powerful of the three Korean Kingdoms._

 _No record exists that explains his disappearance and what few encounters with oriental deities that magi had has uncovered no new clues._

 _Except one from Amateratsu herself._

 _"The bastard's not dead, that's for sure."_

* * *

Kiritsugu found himself looking at a crowd that he wouldn't trust on a good day unless he had a geiss contract with him.

"Lily, be wary of everyone in here."

She nodded.

Kiritsugu, in his usual black trenchcoat, walked towards the bartender and sat down on one of the least dirty-looking stools.

"How can I help ya?" the bartender, an old lady of large girth, walked over to him. "Haven't seen you around here before."

"I'm just looking for people," Kiritsugu replied with his best disarming smile. "I have a need of arcomantula silk and have a few men with me, but I don't have anyone to help me harvest them."

The bartender grunted manly. "That's a risky job."

"I'm willing to pay quite a bit."

"...Then you can ask that guy over there. Remus Lupin," she said as she pointed to man who looked like he was drowning himself in alcohol in the corner of the bar. "But I'd be careful if I were you. Even if 'e's the most civil 'erewolf I know, a 'erewolf is a 'erewolf."

Kiritsugu stared at this Remus for a few moments before he gave the bartender a sickle for her help, which she accepted gladly.

He gestured for Lily to follow him, and they walked over to the man.

Now, Kiritsugu was a man who knew a lot and saw a lot. Werewolf, on the other hand, was not his best subject. The most recent "outbreak" of werewolves had occurred in Russia, which was not really his active stage, and on top of that, it had occurred when he was believing himself to be dying because of the curse of the Angra Mainyu and was at the time slowly cutting himself off from his contacts and the world.

Remus pulled his face out of the beer mug he was holding at the two strangers who had walked up to him.

"...What'dya wan?" he asked in his drunken stupor.

"I'm looking for a harvester to help me with acromantula. The bartender said you can help me?"

"Oh, yea', I ca definiteness hel' you~. I wor...ked with har... har... harve... harvestingy lots!"

"Kiritsugu, this man is obviously too drunk to make conscious choices about employment. Let's find someone else," Lily urged from behind Kiritsugu while keeping an eye out for the rest of the patrons.

He ignored her and kept his eyes trained on the man.

"Then you are aware of the risks involved?"

"O'yesshh, I dooo~!" he chuckled. Then he faceslammed into the table.

Kiritsugu stared at the man for a while before sighing. He reached forward and grabbed the man, slung him over his shoulder, and walked out.

Lily quickly ran up to his side. "Is this wise? He looks more like a beggar than a skilled and experienced man," she questioned.

Kiritsugu didn't reply for a while.

While they walked across Diagon Alley, people stared and whispered at them. The duo ignored them easily enough.

Once they were in Leaky Cauldron, Kiritsugu rented a room and brought Remus to there.

Once inside of the room, he had Lily guard the hall, and pulled out a small pouch. From in it, he pulled out smelling salt.

As soon as the salt was within a hand's distance from his face, Remus bolted awake.

And began to groan.

"Gahhhh!" he muttered.

"Hello again, Remus Lupin. You passed out on me in the bar," he greeted the werewolf.

Remus shook his head as he tried to get his bearing. He looked around and found himself not anywhere he recognized. "W-Wha-W-where are we?" he asked in a slur.

"We're in one of the rooms n Leaky Cauldron."

"O-Oh... Okay," he muttered as his senses finally came back to him. "What was I talking to you about?"

"Employment."

* * *

Kiritsugu left Leak Cauldron and stepped out into London's streets. In his pocket was a geis contract for one Remus Lupin and his future employment.

"Archer, get him!"

Kiritsugu had no time to react when a man in red and black armor charged at him with a pair of black and white swords.

Lily, however, did.

She changed into her armor without hesitation and struck at the Servant with her sword covered in Invisible Air.

Archer jumped back before moving in again.

"Stop!" Kiritsugu shouted as he pulled out a gun and pointed it towards where the voice had commanded this Servant to attack. "The Holy Grail is no more!"

"I know that, you bloody fucker!" a girl shrieked as she appeared from the corner of an alley. "You did something worse than that!"

Kiritsugu frowned.

Wait...

"Tohsaka?" he asked, vaguely remembering the image on a file he had on the Second Owner of Fuyuki City.

She growled at him. "That's right, Emiya," she hissed. "Mind explaining what the hell you did to the leyline in Fuyuki City?!"

"...Harry."

* * *

"Harry."

The boy looked up.

He had been in the reading corner of the Emiya Alliance's cabin when his father had called him. He had with him only one book: the Obscure Tome.

His father had with him a young lady. She was pretty too.

"Who's the pretty lady?"

The lady blushed, much to his confusion, and Kiritsugu chuckled.

"This is Tohsaka Rin. She ... was the Second Owner of Fuyuki City."

Second Owner? "What's that?" he asked.

"She was the magus owner of the city because of how rich in mana it was thanks to its local leyline... the very same leyline that you ... you know."

Harry blinked.

Oh. Oh...! OH...!

He tilted his head, then he straightened it back.

"Wait, how can you own something like a leyline?" he frowned. "You shouldn't own something like that!"

Rin's blush turned quickly from embarrassment to anger. "W-What?!"

"Harry, be polite," his father frowned.

He looked down at his feet. "Okay," he muttered. Then he went right back to reading the tome.

He heard his father sigh. "Harry. I promised Tohsaka-san here that I would have you look through the book to see if there is anything in it that could restore the leyline's activity."

"B-But that's boring. I don't wanna read that," Harry pouted.

"Harry. You took something that belonged to someone else, and we can't undo it," Kiritsugu said as he knelt down. "This is your responsibility, alright?"

Harry stared into his father's black eyes before he looked down again and nodded. "Good boy," he heard his father say and pet his head. "Tohsaka-san, I must warn you, though. You must never try to take the book physically from Harry. Understood?"

"Hai."

"Alright. You can start tomorrow."

"What? I wa-"

"You can start tomorrow."

Harry still had his head faced down, so he didn't see what caused Tohsaka to stop, but after a moment of silence, she conceded. "Hai."

"There is one spare guest room. You can set yourself up there." With that, his father left the room with Tohsaka.

Harry just stood there for a minute before he turned to the tome.

The tome was his friend. His family. If his father was his father, Shirou was Shirou, then the tome was tome. It was there when Harry came here. It was here when Harry wanted to learn.

To have to share his ... tome because someone said they owned something like a leyline.

The tome told him the leyline was a gift from wizards! It was meant to be shared! It was not something to own!

He didn't like it. He didn't like it at all.

"...Is there even a way?"

An ominous voice spoke as if it was a chorus of a thousand different people of thousand different circumstances and background.

 ** _O_ f** _**u** rs_ ** _e_ , **t **h e** _r_ **e is. _T_ u**r _n_ t ** _o_** _p_ ** _ag_ e** 37, **4** _3_ **3**.


	19. Chapter 19

_**Leylines:**_  
 _ **The Who, Why, What, When, and How**_  
 _by Jonathan Watkins_

 _While he has published a mundane book on this topic, my great-grandfather is not the one who coined the term "leyline." The term has been in usage since the medieval times in Mesopotamia by Mesopotamian magi. It is they who discovered the fact that leylines, or spiritual mana traffic lines in modern terms, is a "highway" for magical energy established between human settlements._

 _Leylines exist in two form: natural and artificial._

 _Natural leylines are the leylines that has been there since time immemorial. These leylines are hard to access to but for anyone that could, it has been described to be inexhaustible source of mana. It has been compared to the likes of True Magics in its "infinity." However, no one on record has stated to be able to access these leylines, and those who could are keeping it quiet. These leylines are best described as "arteries of Gaia."_

 _Artificial leylines are just that: human made. The leylines that we consider the oldest has been around for a maximum of eight thousand years because that's how long human civilization has been around. These leylines form between two "leyline nodes" that occur in places of intense spiritual activity. A leyline node, or leynode, is a generator that comes into formation when spiritual activities gather enough "presence" to cause about a collapsing of local airborne mana into a condensed ball. These condensed mana eventually seep into the earth and stay there, becoming the leynode we know today. These condensed ball of mana eventually -over time- become a strong focus that turns into a generator._

 _This generator is the true leynode._

 _Once these nodes form and grow as more and more spiritual activities are performed above them, they reach a critical point in each others' presence and form a "connection." This connection, a conductor of spiritual mana, is what we call leyline._

 _Why this phenomenon occurs is a mystery for everyone. Many magi have tried to determine the cause, but all experiments have turned up pointless and moot._

 _This is where my point comes in._

 _Which is why most non-associates of Mage's Association believes the latter claims to the leylines to be absurd. Not only do leylines belong to_ all _of mankind for it is we who created them as a whole, the mere act of "owning" a leyline is tantamount to declaring that you are willing to steal from mankind for your own sake. It is tantamount to a declaration of war to local deities and spirits who became the focus for most of the artificial leylines to exist._

 _For that reason, I propose a ..._

* * *

Rin stared at the thing in Harry's hands.

"What's that."

It was not a question. It was a statement. What harry held in his hands was _not_ normal, even my magical standards.

"Your alternative to the leyline."

She glared. "I want the leyline restored, not t-"

"It's impossible."

She froze.

"Harry."

Harry looked up to Kiritsugu. "Yes, dad?"

Right now in the Reading Room of the "Emiya Cabin," there were five people. Archer, Rin, Kiritsugu, Ilya(who just came due to his curiosity), and Harry.

"Are you sure?" he asked his son.

Harry nodded. "The tome told me. Leyline can only be restored by waiting."

Kiritsugu stiffened a little as well before he nodded. "How long?"

Harry scrunched his face a bit. "Two hundred years? But it was dying anyway."

Kiritsugu facepalmed. 'But considering that it had enough mana in it to form two bodies out of only mana, there was probably still a lot,' he thought.

"I'm afraid that's it then," he said.

Rin turned on him with a shocked look. "Y-You can't be serious-?!"

"I trust my son, and he spent literal thousands of hours of his life already just staring at that tome. If he says it doesn't exist, it most likely does not."

Rin looked like she wanted to say something else before she deflated. "I'm done for."

"Pardon?" Kiritsugu asked, having missed what Rin said.

"I'm done for," she repeated a bit more loudly. "Without the Second Ownership of the Fuyuki City, I don't have an income. I can't even feed myself without that income from Mage's Association, and they cut me off from it because I'm no longer the Second Owner. I can't be the Second Owner of a city that doesn't have a leyline activity."

After she said that, she collapsed onto the ground and sat there.

"But ... this is better than a leyline."

Rin snapped out of her stupor and glared at Harry. "How is that little ball better than a leyline?!" she snapped angrily, and no one could fault her for snapping like that.

"Because you can add it to yourself?"

Everyone in the room froze.

"Harry."

Harry looked up to his father.

"Is that a Magic Crest?"

"No, the tome said it's an immature leyline node."

"...Harry, how did you make it?" Ilya asked this time, just staring blankly at the _thing_ Harry held.

Now here, everyone lost Harry as he dove into the intricacies and the high level mathematics of the pseudo-scientific workings of the spiritual-to-leyline conversion that even the Obscure Tome possessed little in knowledge about. Harry talked as if he was diving into the world of numbers and concepts that no one except Tamamo could grasp, and she wasn't there; she was preparing their lunch in the kitchen.

By the end of it, the only thing anyone learned was that the orb that Harry was holding in his hands was a collapsed pool of local airborne mana caused by his amplified belief, which had taken Emiya household magecraft, spatial resonance, a "handful" of local spirits, and a sword made by Shirou whose concept had been "Amplify."

Now, all of this was explained in a ten year old kid's vocabulary with few advanced words and phrases that had no right coming out of a kid's mouth.

Kiritsugu didn't even know where so many things went wrong in Harry's speech. Starting from how he easily revealed to Tohsaka Rin about the tome to how Harry knew how to use Emiya's Time Acceleration magecraft without possessing the Emiya Magic Crest as well as the fact that Harry just blatantly admitted to _creating_ an artificial leyline in the span of less than twelve hours. There was going to be some interrogation tonight which usually involved holding back on Shirou and Tamamo's cooking.

Everyone stared at the thing Harry held. The shimmering, near-infinite source of mana that was not yet part of any leyline.

A source of mana that was small enough to be added to any compatible Magic Crest, but big enough that -as far as Kiritsugu and Ilya knew- even the Einzberns and the entirety of the Clock Tower would wage war to obtain.

Kiritsugu thought about it.

Now, Harry had done something very stupid. For a kid who could literally warp the world around his hands, he knew little about the world and its people, which probably had a lot to do with the _literal thousands_ of hours he spent with a book rather than people. His family does not count as "people."

'I mean, his family consists mostly of Heroic Spirits, spellcasters, and a homunculus, none of which are "regular" people,' he told himself.

By telling Rin about what he could do, Kiritsugu was now forced to act to keep the Emiya Alliance and Harry safe.

"Tohsaka-san."

Rin looked up to Kiritsugu.

"There is another way that we can help you, if money is the issue."

"H-How?"

* * *

Now, Rin was scared.

No one reveals knowledge on that scale normally. This kind of knowledge, she knew, the Clock Tower would literally massacre thousands of people to obtain. By being a listener, she was now exposed to whatever this secret that the "Emiya Alliance" held.

As a magus, that was bad. Very fucking bad.

Magi were unscrupulous by choice. It was _normal_ to wipe out enemies that learned of their secret. It was _normal_ to decimate towns for what they wanted.

And here she was, learning of a secret unwantingly on a scale that was probably just below True Magic.

She was so fucking scared.

"Tohsaka-san."

She stiffened and slowly looked up to the patriarch of the Emiya Alliance.

"There is another way that we can help you, if money is the issue."

Her brain froze as the recent events around her began to make connections.

 _Issue. Help you. Money no longer issue. Just learned secret on scale of True Magic's inner workings._

Then her brain decided to make the worst connection possible.

 _The dead has no need of money nor the possibility of revealing a secret._

They were going to kill her. They were going to kill her and bury her somewhere no one would find her.

No one would miss her. Her sister was in Japan under another house, and her parents were dead.

'So this is where I die,' she mentally let go of herself. There was no way she was going to escape from here even if she tried. She was surrounded by men and women who are _literal_ Heroes of old. The sheer might they represented was enough to give Emiya Kiritsugu the title of Wizard Marshall, and it was only because she thought he had one or two Servants that she had the balls to demand of him.

That and she learned from Mage's Association that he was not allowed to kill.

But she had gone too deep, too far.

"Please make it quick," she muttered as she looked down.

* * *

"Please make it quick."

Archer, who had been standing in the background, facepalmed. "Master, I don't think that's what he means."

Rin looked up with hollow eyes. "Huh?"

Kiritsugu connected the words and actions together, and facepalmed himself.

"Tohsa- No, Rin-san. I did not mean that I was going to kill you. I was going to ask if you wanted to join the Emiya Alliance."

There was a pause before she fainted.

Archer chuckled. "I think my Master had too much mental stress." He walked over to his Master's prone form and scooped her up. "I'll be taking her to her room." Kiritsugu nodded in thanks.

And Harry looked around with a premature leyline node in his hand. "Umm... what do I do with this?" he asked everyone who was still conscious.

Ilya looked at it before extending her hands out with a smile. "Can I have it? You can make more, right?"

Harry shook his head. "There's no more airborne mana or piety."

"Piety?"

"The thing people make that becomes mana."

"Do they recharge?"

"A few years?"

Ilya smiled. "Then I can have it, right?"

Harry thought about it. "Okay!" he said and placed the orb in Ilya's hands.

Only for the orb to go through her skin and enter her body.

"...Harry, why didn't you tell me this was going to happen."

"I did."

"When?"

"When I was talking about how I made it, of course!" he smiled.

Ilya sighed, and then paused.

She activated her circuits.

Now, before she asked and accepted Harry's "premature leyline node," Ilya had also been under the influence of the Obscure Tome. Under its influence, her magic circuits had been reduced by half in number but tripled in quality.

Surprise, surprise, because the moment she activated her circuits, she saw a giant, glowing "pool" of vibrant mana just underneath her torso.

She stared and stared and stared.

"Harry, this is magical core."

"Oh," Harry frowned. "I messed up? What did I do wrong... I know I used the right amplifiers and catalysts-" he froze. "Oh fuck."

"Harry, language," Kiritsugu frowned. "But what did you do wrong?"

Harry looked sheepish. "It said I had to use weird things, so I used the uhhh fourth best thing."

"Which is?"

"My own circuit, of course!" Harry smiled.

Kiritsugu narrowed his eyes. "Harry. You're a wizard, not a magus. You don't have magic circuits."

"Nuh-uh, I do. See!" With that, he closed his eyes for a split second.

In that split second, green lines popped up all over Harry's body.

"So that's what the tome has been doing to you," Ilya noted in awe.

"Ilya...?!" Kiritsugu turned to his daughter, demanding explanation.

"Ah. Right. Oops. I forgot to tell you that."

* * *

It took a while for Ilya to explain to the Emiya Alliance patriarch exactly what the tome has been doing to some of its readers. More specifically, she explained in great detail about how her lifespan, the quality of her magic circuits, and vitality was increased. She also explained her suspicion about what the tome had been doing to Harry, but couldn't quite get any evidence because well, unlike herself, Harry did not seem to be suffering from any kind of mental or physical distress from being near a book.

Unfortunately for her, Kiritsugu was not amused. While he was thankful that his daughter was no longer going to die -which he hadn't known about until she _just_ told him so, and thus very crossed with her-, he had become more wary of the Obscure Tome than even before.

To that effect, he attempted to get the book away from Harry, only to have on his hand a crying boy, moving shadows in everyone's peripheral vision, and unnerved Tamamo, who ended up burning one of the dishes.

In the end, he let Harry keep the book at his side, but he was to only perform something from it only when one of the magecraft competent adults were supervising. Harry agreed easily enough in his haste to get his tome back.

Once Rin woke up, she readily accepted Kiritsugu's off of becoming part of the budding Emiya Alliance, and Harry promised to make her another node as soon as the airborne mana was charged back up.

Rin didn't quite fit in at first. Being surrounded by Heroic Spirits who were now _alive_ and not just spirits made her baffled to the point of fainting again. However, in the span of a week since her arrival, she began to chat and work with the rest of the Emiya Alliance very well.

Unfortunately, everyone knew they were forgetting something important, but what was it?

* * *

While the Emiya Alliance was undergoing this chaotic mess whose root goes all the way back to the Fifth Holy Grail War, British wizarding communities were starting to get geared up for their own issues.

British Wizarding Community, which has now been renamed as Wizarding England, has come under the control of a Dark Lord, who was anti-muggleborn, anti-Wales, anti-Scotts, anti-Irish, and anti-magus.

Now, this Dark Lord was not smart as the last few Dark Lords, namely Voldemort. Voldemort had done his best to completely ignore the magi communities because they were usually more trouble than they were worth. After all, a single regular practitioner of the magecraft held a veritable fortress wherever they lived compared to flimsy defenses of the wizards. There was no way he was going to spent his manpower and money on bringing them down, no matter how much he disliked them!

This new Dark Lord decided a few months ago that all magi in England should be wiped out for the English wizards.

It is because of this that less than a month away from Harry entering Hogwarts, the Dark Lord Magnus struck out against Clock Tower.

Now here is where fate decided to get a bit ... crafty.

The attack on Clock Tower coincided perfectly with the day one Matou Sakura had decided to visit the said organization.


	20. Chapter 20

Matou Sakura, or Sakura Matou by western conventions, was a smart girl.

She was not a genius like her older sister, Rin Tohsaka, but she was smart enough to stand above the average men and women. So when she saw a small army of stick waving wizards just as she was leaving Clock Tower firing off spells as if they were fireworks, she recognized them as threats rather than a normal part of Clock Tower life.

How did she gather so?

 _1\. Their clothes._

Unlike rest of the Clock Tower's residents, this army dressed themselves as Elizabethan nobles, and by Elizabeth, Sakura was thinking of the First. At least the Clock Tower magi had the sense to dress up in early 20th century clothes.

 _2\. Sticks in their hands. Otherwise known as wands._

Wands were the least used mystic codes of those associated with Mage's Association. First of all, wands were out of fashion by half a millennium. Two, magi found the wands to be a bit stale. Why would you limit yourself to a wand when you can have a mystic code that gave you wings?! No one would. Only wizards still used them because they could be mass produced due to how well known the wandlores were and how easily mass producible the wands were. You only need few heartstrings, fathers, and wood, and vola!

Wizards were lazy or crazy, and most magi couldn't determine which one wizards and witches were.

 _3\. The fact that they were throwing spells around in public._

That was a big no-no. Enforcers were going to be here soon.

Actually, considering that she was _right in front of the Clock Tower_ , the Enforcers were probably seconds away from being here.

"Rider."

Her Servant appeared beside her. "Yes?"

"Once the Enforcers are here, help them out with the ... rabble ahead of us."

"Of course."

* * *

When Enforcer #04336, which was the ID given to him when he became one of the Enforcers of Clock Tower, came out along with fifteen others who were immediately available, they were met with two young women.

They wore casual mundane clothes, which contrasted starkly with his own and those of the attackers.

"Who are you?" he asked her. "No, wait. Don't answer. Just get inside," he grumbled.

"Yes, sir," she replied with a smile. "But I will be leaving my own ...bodyguard to help you."

"A mere bodyguard won't be of u-"

A blur.

Huh?

Enforcer #04336 looked to the crowd of attackers and saw that a few of the edges began to drop down and die every time the blur passed by.

Then the blur came to the young lady.

And then the other lady was there.

When had she disappeared in the first place?

The violet haired boxom bodyguard held in her hands a spike on chain. It must be some sort of an offensive mystic code. Was it what gave her the speed without causing internal disturbance in the body? If it was, then it was impressive to be sure.

To his surprise, the bodyguard casually threw the spike at the attackers, who had identified her as a threat and threw spells at them even as his own enforcers began to spread out and attack the attackers. Then when the spike and chain had extended thrice her own height, she sharply tugged it back, causing the chain to halt in its lunging.

As the chain snaked in the air as a result of her throwing and pulling, she spun the chain.

All spells that came at her and her charge struck the chain and were bounced off.

'Speed, inertia, and anti-unit?' he thought in awe. Such mystic codes were hard to come by. Only few mystic codes created by those like Lord El Melloi the First came close. 'On top of that, she made it inconspicuous. I mean, who's going to ask questions about obvious weapons on a bodyguard?'

The bodyguard pulled the chain back, and this time, rapidly lashed out with it at any who got close.

The enforcer decided he was going to have to fight as well.

It wouldn't do well for his boss to hear that he did nothing but stand around gawking at some outsider who did majority of the work defending Clock Tower.

With that, he charged off, drawing out his duel barrettes.

* * *

When Yurivius Evelick received the command from his lord Magnus to attack the magi headquarter of Clock Tower, he had questioned it.

Who were magi?

The Dark Lord told him and his followers that the magi were magical humans like themselves who could have stood above the rest of humanity, but rather than defining them as superior, the magi have defined themselves as the abnormal, and the magi, in turn, called the wizards abnormals.

Evelick had been incensed by this.

Who were these bastards to call the noble wizards and witches _abnormals_?

So he gladly followed his lord's command.

Leading some hundred wizards and witches under his lord's wings, he led the frontal assault against this Clock Tower.

Now, this was not some kind of stupid strategy like "frontal assault to the death!" like some of his fellow wizards and witches would have planned out.

No, he had a small contingent of more elite duelists in hiding. Once the defenders came out, there were to strike.

And strike they did.

But perhaps that's when things started to go wrong.

When his ambushers fired their spells at the defenders trying to flank them, despite being outnumbered 8-1, the spells didn't quite make it to their targets, including the woman who used a _chain_ as her weapon.

When the spells were half way to their targets, they fizzled out.

"...Ward!" he realized.

* * *

Too late, Enforcer #04336 grinned.

Now, he had earned his "enforcer-ship" not because he was physically strong, morally upright, or anything like that.

He earned it because of a single mystic code he had developed.

"Rebound!" he shouted its name, which also happened to be its activation phrase.

There was a fizzle in the air before a thin, transparent, and dome-shaped shield came up around the entire square centering him.

His mystic code was the very cloak he wore, an anti-army mystic code against low-level fighters, like these guys.

It does two things.

Capture and invert direction.

The mystic code itself worked on a time delay and release for effect as well.

So when he activated it...

All of the spells used from outside the boundary were spot right back, whatever they were.

* * *

When most of the elite troops he had brought fell from their own spell fire, Evelick knew he had to retreat.

He grabbed his lieutenant's shoulder to get his attention, but the man dropped dead like so many others.

He snapped his hand away from the dead man as he fell as if he had touched something awful or too hot.

Evelick whirled his head left and right.

One by one, his men fell.

"Damn it, retre-!" he shouted, but his last word was cut off by a gurgle after a blur passed by.

He struggled to stay upright as something changed about himself.

He looked down and saw blood in front of his boots, and still more falling from ... himself?

"Uh?" he uttered.

Then he swayed and fell backward dead.

And thus the line of Evelicks died forever.

* * *

Soon after the death of their leader, the wizards began to apparate away, but only a little more than half lived to do so.

The rest? They were dead on the ground and some were captured after Sakura had the sense to tell Rider to "capture a few for questioning."

"Miss ... Sakura?"

Sakura turned around as the enforcers dragged the unconscious wizards up while hauling the dead bodies of wizards into what looked like a small cart. From what Sakura knew about Clock Tower was true, they were most likely going to be hauling those bodies to the labs underground for some rare experimentations. She didn't care much about it, she realized, and why would she? These men came out of nowhere and attacked her, Rider, and Clock Tower without stating their reason for any of it. As far as she was concerned, they were probably doing the world a favor by serving as lab experiments rather than just burning up like the bodies of the other wizards that were too cut up to be recovered.

So it was to her surprise that a Clock Tower magus came out to greet her. This magus looked like a young man with short black hair with a square jaw, but then with magi, you never know what they might be underneath that face.

"Yes?" she responded with a smile. "Can I help you with something?"

The magus shook his head. "No. I only came out to thank you, miss. My name is Edward Toranbelio of Mage's Association. I must say, though, your bodyguard, was it, is extremely skilled and well-versed in combat."

Sakura smiled. "From what little she told me, she had to fight a lot for her family. Fighting is second nature to her." Despite having replied, Sakura was curious. What's with the questions, unless this was normal in Clock Tower?

"I see. Would you like to -?"

This was where Rider broke into the conversation. "Sakura. I sense her."

Sakura nodded. She gave Mr. Toranbelio a small bow before following Rider.

"Who was that?" Rider asked as soon as they were far enough away from the Clock Tower and the massacre scene for no one to listen in.

"He seemed interested in you," Sakura replied. "Clock Tower does seem to be lacking in fighters."

Rider thought about that.

When she fought alongside the enforcers, they seemed to be a bit lacking. Now, she was a Servant, the embodiment of a Heroic Spirit, and that made her perhaps less than suited to critiquing the still living and breathing _humans_ and such. At the same time, though, she couldn't be disappointed in a way. Warriors from her time fought with vigor and strength that she couldn't see in the enforcers.

Maybe this was because the enforcers were members of the Mage's Association whose primary job was hunting down those running from then rather than those who took their fight to the enforcers.

Maybe she was thinking too much.

'I am probably thinking too much,' Rider thought to herself before-

 _-Thud._

"Ow!"

* * *

Bill Weasley was a curse breaker who worked for Gringotts Bank, and thus had no business with Clock Tower.

Except he did.

Oddly enough, both of the two organizations, Gringotts Bank and the Clock Tower, had no misgivings about each other. As such, they had an established trade treaty set up. Clock Tower recognized Gringotts Bank as an independent nation as far as magus were concerned and they swore to support the goblins publicly regarding this view. The Gringotts goblins in return provided extremely low interest -somewhere around 0.01%- loans and sold raw gems and ores to the Clock Tower.

Now, while this may seem like a deal that the goblins lost more on, it was not so.

Over the course of the last century, Clock Tower has been stalwart allies to Gringotts Bank, mostly because the former's Wizard Marshall Zelretch has a deep interest in keeping the flow of gems steady. Clock Tower has on numerous occasions publicly stated their support of Gringotts Bank's independence movement. In fact, Clock Tower has had more issues caused by their public support of Gringotts than the latter did in their own public support of Clock Tower.

Regardless of the reason, Gringotts goblins have a treaty to uphold with Clock Tower, which means that as an employee of the Gringotts Bank, William "Bill" Weasley was available to carry out their usual trade transaction. Yes, he had been chosen rather than the usual goblins who were regularly chosen due to some circumstances that Bill was not told.

So when he had just left Leaky Cauldron to make his way to the British Museum to deliver the monthly supply of gems and ores promised by the goblins to the magi of Clock Tower, he was expecting something new. After all, he was going to be the first wizard who was going to enter Clock Tower in a generation.

Except instead of being allowed in, he ran into a woman whose balance was stronger than a planted steel pole and knocked him over.

"I'm sorry. Are you hurt?"

He grumbled as he stood up. "I'm perfectly fine, thank you," he replied grumpily. He quickly checked himself and the bottomless bag he had been given. He roughly checked the gems before concluding that none had been damaged. "But do be careful where you are walking. Almost broke my things."

The woman in front of him was odd as was the girl behind her. The woman in front of him wore a pair of glasses, but he could tell that they were enchanted to do something. Despite the glasses, he saw her eyes glowing a little. Her stance was also odd. Like a fighter ready to spring into action, but it did ease a bit when he talked. And both of them had purple hair. What's up with that?

But he could tell that both of them were not muggles. No, they had too much oddities about them. They were definitely magical, no matter how cliche that may sound.

The purple haired woman in the front smiled apologetically. "Sorry."

He waved it off. "What has you in a hurry anyway, and what happened at Clock Tower? I have business there."

"Oh. It was just attacked by a group of ... wizards, I believe."

Well, shit.

"Crap," Bill muttered. "I guess I'll have to go back and report this. I'm probably not going to be allowed in any time soon." So much for first wizard in Clock Tower in a generation. "What specifically happened?"

The woman frowned a little. "We were just walking out of the Clock Tower when wizards wearing dark robes attacked the entrance. Enforcers came out and wiped them out with ease."

Bill paled.

Yeah, he should go back to Gringotts. Who knows what the magi would do to him if he showed up right after such an attack. Ministry would stun first and ask questions. Magi would stun and dissect from what he heard.

"I-I see. Well, then, I suppose I'll go back to my superiors about this."

With that, he nodded to the two women and made his way back towards Leaky Cauldron.

* * *

Edward Toranbelio returned to his office in the Clock Tower and pondered.

That purple haired woman seemed to be an enforcer material magus, and he wondered how well she would do as an enforcer for Clock Tower.

Toranbelio, one must understand, was a pragmatic man, but he was also an envisionist. While two thirds of the Clock Tower fought internally with each other over policies, which basically split the population into either the rich, the poor, and the neutral -the last of which he was the leader of- and set them apart from each other by resources and such, he liked to gather people for Clock Tower itself.

Despite growing up a magus, Edward Toranbelio was quite the xenophilic, which was an oddity among his "noble" peers of the Clock Tower.

When asked about his "habit" of bringing in foreigners into Clock Tower, he always laughed and told them about how awful Clock Tower would be if he didn't.

He just pointed them to wizarding Britain and their inbred noble houses.

Of course, magus families were far too careful to cause such inbreeding, but at the same time, they were far too xenophobic for his own taste.

And that purple haired duo were just the type he wanted in his Clock Tower...

He shook his head.

Dreaming later, paperwork first.

And speaking of paperwork...

"Sharan, where are the essays the evocation students are supposed to turn in?"

* * *

"Purple hair? You sure you didn't see metamorphmagus?" Molly Weasley, the matriarch of the Weasley family, asked her son.

She was just happy to have her eldest son with her.

Ever since the "breakage" of magical Scotland and Wales from magical England, Gringotts has been recalling its employees and assets outside of England for reevaluation and counting. Bill had been one of those employees who had been called back.

Normally, this would have been a unpaid layoff period for Bill due to the mess the natinalization of the two territories had caused Gringotts -not to mention the fuss the English Ministry of Magic is throwing at them for taking on Welsh and Scots clients- as well as the wizards. Bill was still getting paid, however, because he agreed to work in less glamorous and less paid position, one of which happened to be running in between the Mage's Association and Ministry from Gringotts Bank (not as an ambassador but as a

Which was why he was stuck inside the Weasley Burrow again with his parents -and all of his siblings once the summer vacation hits.

Molly didn't really care. The entire family was close and she liked it that way.

Well, the entire family except Charlie, because the nuttiest of the Weasleys was working with dragons in the one of the parts of the world that hadn't been affected by British mess.

Bill sighed. "Yes, mum. I already said that twice."

Metamorphmagus were rare in Britain as a whole. It may have to do with the fact that magical Britain lacked "sorcery traits" compared to Asia, Africa, and America. Of course, this was not something the Weasley family knew either. It was an esoteric fact only Harry would care to learn, but that is besides the point.

The public knew of no metamorphmagus, who would be the only ones capable -or rather willing- to make their hair purple.

No muggleborns were bold enough to dye their hair in such atrocious color. No purebloods were stupid enough to mark themselves as "unusual" in the eyes of the public.

So that was the reason that Molly reached the decision of asking if these women were metamorphmagus.

It just wasn't the norm to have purple hair in wizarding world.

'If you discount the magi weirdos,' she thought to herself privately.

From her perspective, which was really that of the entire wizarding communities, magi were odd.

Their entire community was based around research and search of the "root of all things."

Preposterous. Magic was magic, there was no "root" of magic. The idea was ludicrous.

This was something all wizard and witches learned about at Hogwarts.

Magus was a crazy person. Do not feed them.

But back to point...

"No, I don't think so. They came out of Clock Tower."

Molly stared at her son for a while before shaking her head and going back to cooking. "Well, you do well to stay away from them, Bill. A magus is not someone you want to tangle with. Especially since she might dissect you."

"Wait, what?"

Molly shuddered. "Just go back to eating, Bill. You're going to be late for work."

* * *

 **Chapter End**


	21. Chapter 21

**Updating the School?**

 **I don't know. Is my muse here?**

 **As far as the questions, I'll try to answer some in the chapter below, but those that I cannot without breaking the 4th wall, I'll talk about it at the end.**

* * *

Shirou stared down at his sword.

This sword which lay before him in his laps was the one hundredth eleventh sword that he had created with his forging skills and his Blood Magic.

It was also the first sword that he had infused malicious intent into.

The sword looked plain like anything else he had created before. Forged into a class of swords that are called zweihander, it was a longsword that was taller than he was.

Into this sword, Shirou forced into it his bloodthirst.

Now, to say that he was a bloodthirsty man would be saying that the Earth had three moon; it wasn't true. However, all men and women are capable of being bloodthirsty. Shirou merely worked himself up using fictional images and allowing his body to react naturally as possible.

Into the sword, he bestowed it a single concept.

"Anything this blade cuts rots."

He had already tested it upon several things. Wood, bricks, and even fire.

Wood rotted away where it was cut. Brick turned to dust where it was pierced. Fire died when it touched the blade.

And now, after all of the testing was done, Shirou found himself scared with his own creation.

He didn't revel in the fact that his sword was capable of reaching the heights of Noble Phantasm in the right hands or that he had been the one to create such a sword.

Nay, he was scared of the fact that it was possible for his own family to be targeted by his own blades. That his swords could be turned to be used against his family.

He stared at his blade, the Rotting Sword, and thought.

'I have to protect my family from my own blades.'

He sat there for a while before he decided to follow through with that thought.

He stood up and placed the Rotting Sword upon the anvil.

He was going to reforge every single one of his swords until he could place the concept of "no harm to Emiya Alliance" into every single one of them.

It was the fourth day after Shirou made such a decision that the rest of the family found him.

On the third day, Shirou had collapsed from tirednes, and it wasn't the fourth day that he was found by the rest of the family.

When asked, he would only reply by saying that he was doing what he should've done, and went right back to work.

This time, though, Tamamo stood by his side and made sure he slept and ate.

* * *

Illyasviel on Einzbern, or rather now called Illyasviel Emiya by the rest of the Emiya Alliance, worked on improving herself as well.

While Shirou spent weeks fixing what he considered to be one of his biggest mistakes, Ilya enjoyed learning new magecraft and wizard magic.

She improved upon the wire magecraft. Now, we can create constructs bigger than herself, but she still needed to work on her constructs durability.

She just got herself a wizard's wand, because she didn't know how to make a mystic code specific to wizard's magical core. She would learn about that later.

So far, though, she was finding out that wizard's magic was different from a magus magecraft.

Magus magecraft took a lot of power and very little control. Comparably, all of the wizard magic spells took much more control and a lot less power.

She was by no means straining herself. Hell, she couldn't get herself to strain after casting the most "powerful" 1st year charms over and over again for an entire day!

However successful she may have been for a few days, Ilya failed spectacularly on her fifth day.

Deciding that she was hampered by the fact that wizards weren't the most creative bunch and were very slow on creating new spells, she decided to create her own spell after seeing how easy it was to cast wizarding magic spells.

She had a goal in her mind. She was going to create a spell that would implement the design within her mind's blueprint onto fabric in real life.

All she got in return was an explosion.

"KKYYAAHH!"

Another failure. That was the fifth explosion.

* * *

Kiritsugu listened to the sounds of metal beating on metal and of explosions throughout the house.

He sipped his tea before sighing.

They needed to move fast before this cabin was blown away by either Ilya's explosions or burned by the fires of Shirou's forge.

 _Ding dong_

Kiritsugu set his newspaper down and stood up from his rocking chair. 'I wonder who it is this early in the morning,' he thought to himself as he walked over to the door.

He opened it.

To his surprise, it was the Matou girl that he saw several times in Fuyuki City. The one that liked to follow Shirou around in the mundane school when Shirou attended the high school in question for a short period of time.

Wasn't she the Matou heir? Zouken would never let his heir be so far away from him, so why was she here...?

His eyes widened in realization and he jumped back. "Sab-!"

Another woman just popped her head out, and Sakura waved. This caused Kiritsugu to stop even as Saber rushed into the entrance of the Emiya Cabin with her armor on and her sword in her hands.

"Hi," she smiled. "We're not here to fight."

Saber raised an eyebrow and looked to Kiritsugu for orders.

* * *

In the end, Kiritsugu allowed them entry to his home, but told the duo that their presence was to be limited to the living room, which they agreed to.

With all of the Emiya Alliance servants in the room along with Shirou and Rin, Kiritsugu was ready to explain what happened in the Fifth Holy Grail War.

"I assume you are Rider and Sakura here is your Master?" Kiritsugu asked.

Sakura nodded even as Rider took a sip of the tea that Shirou and Tamamo had prepared for them.

It was an excellent tea.

Sakura took a sip as well before she set the teacup down and looked at Kiritsugu in the eyes.

"Wait, but I killed that blue haired kid," Assassin, aka Kakashi Hatake, said as he raised his hand without taking his eye off of his "novel."

Sakura's smile brightened. "Then I have you to thank for killing off that useless son of a bitch. Thank you," she thanked sincerely.

"Umm, right. Sure," he replied.

"Matou-san," Kiritsugu spoke up. "Why are you here?"

Sakura smiled again. "To marry Shirou."

A spit-take.

Shirou gawked at Sakura with a heavy blush.

Tamamo glared at Sakura.

Sakura just smiled.

"...Would you mind explaining?" Kiritsugu asked after he dropped his face into his waiting hands.

"I've always admired senpai" was the start. The explanation ended with "...that's why I decided to follow him and marry him."

It took her an hour to reach that conclusion.

By the end of it, Shirou looked very embarrassed, Tamamo nodded in agreement with Sakura's reasoning, and a blushing Rin realized that Emiya's were blessed with rather large dicks.

A ten-incher? Dear lord, that was extremely long for an Asian!

"Dad, when's dinner?!" Harry shouted as he ran into the living room. Then he spotted Rider and Sakura. "Ah! Candy lady!"

Out of nowhere, Sakura pulled out a small pouch of candies, and before anyone could object, Harry took the candies and were eating right in front of them.

"Harry, you're not supposed to eat candies before dinner," Tamamo chastised.

Harry pouted after swallowing his third mochi.

"What are you doing here, candy lady?" he asked Sakura, changing the topic as bluntly as one would strike a hammer.

"I'm here to marry your older brother. We talked about this before, yes?" she smiled as she raised up a finger.

Harry blinked. "I thought you were joking, candy lady!"

"You knew about this, Harry?" Shirou muttered. "No, why am I questioning this? Harry knows about everything."

Sakura chuckled, ignoring Shirou's resigned form. "I wasn't joking. Why else would I be here?"

"Does this mean I get to eat candy everyday?"

"Well... probably not. You would have to eat regular food before candies."

"But you just gave me candy!"

"Today's an exception. I did promise to give you more candy next time I saw you, right?"

"You did," he said as he nodded. "...Then are you going to be my sister-in-law?"

"Exactly!"

"Do I get a say in this?" Shirou asked weakly, too resigned and tired from all of the bomshells he'd been receiving the past hour or so and the fact that he was still tired from five or so hours of merciless blacksmithing.

""No,"" Sakura and Harry replied at the same time without even looking at him.

He dropped his head in dejection.

In the end, on May 11th, 2007, Sakura Matou and her Servant Rider joined the Emiya Alliance.

They were pretty shocked to find out that Rider was Medusa.

* * *

With the failure of being unable to oust the Clock Tower magi, the Dark Lord Magnus lost a significant amount of his support among the purebloods and his other supporters. However, this is not to say that he was completely without support or that he lost more than a quarter.

In fact, his bold attack upon the Clock Tower magi has resulted in his loss of pureblood supporters with recruitment of angry wizards and witches who had once suffered at the hands of the magi. Their numbers swelled his ranks considerably.

Perhaps this had been his plan all along.

The unaccounted for fourth party to the four way struggle for the Wizarding England: the Magus Victims.

The first party were the Purebloods.

The second party were the Lights.

The third party were the Neutrals, or the Moderates.

And the last party, the Magus Victims. They were wizards and witches who had suffered at the hands of the magi, but the lack of action from any of the wizarding governments had caused them to disassociate themselves from their own government. Before today, they lived in secluded communities of their own, festering in their own pity, anger, and hate.

Dark Lord Magnus' bold attack on the Clock Tower magi had drawn this untouched pool of manpower and leaders into his ranks.

While this party was not significant in size or skill, they easily replaced all of the deserters and more.

This also had unexpected consequences of its own.

The moderates, seeing that the Dark Lord was becoming too strong within the Witengamot to fight on their own, joined the Lights on the political stage.

There was now a clear divide between the active wizards and witches of the wizarding England, an "us or them" situation that split the entire nation in half.

Meanwhile, Headmaster Albus Dumbledore saw Harry Potter's name on the list of upcoming students and nodded happily.

* * *

Back in Emiya Cabin, two months had passed since Sakura and Rider joined the ranks of Emiya Alliance and Emiya family.

Just as she said when she first came in, she was still in love madly with Shirou.

This, of course, made her a rival to Tamamo.

Tamamo did not consider as such. While the purple haired girl was good at housekeeping, her own brand of magecraft, and oh so perfect massaging, she was still just another girl.

Tamamo was much more than that. She was a piece of a deity, she shared with Shirou his own magic, which was used to bring her back to life, and she had definitely been more proactive in her approach to him than Sakura ever had!

But still, Tamamo was a woman from medieval Japan, even before the turbulent times of Sengoku Jidai.

She was a woman who had come to accept early in her life that men of high quality ... liked having more than just one wife. It was a general trait that the human species had.

Tamamo was willing to accept that Sakura would one day become Shirou's wife just as she would be, but there was no way in hell she would let Sakura become the First Wife!

Shirou didn't get a say in this.

Oh, he grew to love both Tamamo and Sakura in the two months. They loved him, and he couldn't help but love them back when they were so adamant and expressive.

Such was love.

But still, he would appreciate it if he got a say in it!

Harry didn't care. Candy lady gave him candies, and that was that.

Ilya didn't care. "Candy lady" gave her candies too, and that was that.

Kiritsugu really appreciated the massages. While Avalon kept him from aging, it did not help him with his already existing phantom back problems and tense neck muscles after hours of paperwork.

Vlad liked the new brew of teas she brought, although he was still more partial towards Tamamo's cooking.

Berserker didn't care. He was a Berserker, not a cuisine critique.

Artur-Lily- just appreciated the fact that there were more capable chefs in the family.

Kakashi didn't care. Food was food, and the two new girls didn't appreciate his literature like the rest of the family. No changes.

Archer was fine with everything as well, although his reason may be different from everyone else.

Rin was just happy her sister was with her now rather than forbidden to converse with her as she had been before under Matou's thumb.

The fact that Sakura brought Matou family tomes was just a bonus.

But ...

But ...

But ...!

There was someone that _did not_ appreciate Sakura's presence, but that's a story for another time, for while that someone did not appreciate her presence, that someone was willing to tolerate her. For now.

At the end of that second month, Kiritsugu managed to find a new recruit for the Emiya Alliance.

This person was neither magus nor wizard.

Neither a Dead Apostle nor a human.

Neither a deity nor of Gaia.

He was taller than Shirou and Kiritsugu, but no taller than Berserker by any means. The boy was still two heads shorter than Berserker.

He had orange hair and numerous scars along his body. He held within his hand a very big butcher sword.

And he appeared out of nowhere and dropped onto their cabin's poor porch in a bloody mess!

Kiritsugu made sure to curse Zelretch and give him a mean phone call.

Who else would drop a Japanese shinigami on their doorstep?

* * *

 _The Afterlife Outside of Akasha_

 _It exists, I'll tell you that. The Biblical God, who is the progenitor of the magecraft used by both Mage's Association and Holy Roman Catholic Church, indeed has a heaven for those who believe and live in his way. Buddha's cycle of reincarnation exists, although this cycle of reincarnation runs too closely to the Root's own cycle that there is little to no distinction between the two._

 _In America, Biblical God and the shamanisitc afterlife guides are the most powerful. In Europe, Middle East, and many parts of Asia and Africa, the former dominates like nothing else._

 _But about about the rest?_

 _In Japan, the Soul Reapers, or shinigamis in Japanese language, dominate the flow of life for those who believe, even slightly, in the Shinto religion, which is kind of funny considering that they are completely out of place religion-to-reality wise._

 _In Central Africa, the "Warring Spirit Tribes" dominate the afterlife. They are ..._

* * *

 **None of you saw that coming. Anyway, did you enjoy it?**

 **whitedorumon:  
** Yeah, that was a grammatical error on my part :P **  
**

 **To everyone:  
** I suppose the magi in this world that I created are a bit more lax than those in the canon.


	22. Chapter 22

For a week, the young shinigami who had been dropped literally on their porch did not wake up. He squirmed and struggled in the bed they put him in the last guest room available.

Kiritsugu tried to corner the old vampire of Clock Tower, but he couldn't even find him.

This left them in a conundrum.

What were they going to do with this man?

Shinigamis were notorious to the oriental wizardkin and magikin due to how protective they were of information on afterlife. They were kind of like the wizardkin obliviators in that regard, because they wiped the memories of the bystanders while dealing with threats they deemed "their duty."

Of course, such things do not work on wizardkin and magikin.

There have been a few skirmishes between the Japanese guardians of afterlife and the Mage's Association Enforcers, which resulted in lots of threats being tossed around.

Shinigamis were troublesome, but they stayed in Japan, their home territory. They had no business elsewhere.

So why was one in England?

Kiritsugu sipped his headache soothing tea.

* * *

There was a gasp, a flutter of feet, and struggle.

Then silence.

"Nightmare again?"

Kiritsugu looked up and nodded.

Tamamo set down a tray with a bowl of clam chowder and a cup of earl grey tea. She had originally wanted to give their guest shinigami some solid food, but her experience with injured patients told her that soups would be better for their first meal.

They were right next to the shinigami's bed, where he slept uneasily.

"How bad?"

"Had to restrain him," he said, gesturing to the feet and hands which were now bound by leather cuffs. "If not for himself, then for the bed. He made that dent right there."

Tamamo took a look at the dent in question, which was at the foot of the bed. The bed frame was made out of wood, so the dent in question was less of a dent and more of a cracked and smashed wooden frame.

And considering that the "dent" in question was half of the entire foot of the bed frame with only one discernable striking point, the shinigami had some serious physical power.

Kiritsugu shook his head and left with Tamamo in tow.

* * *

When Ichigo woke up, there was no one in the room but himself, a bowl of clam chowder, a cup of earl grey tea, open window, the song of morning birds, and a greyish brown ceiling.

He blinked as he rose up.

The first thing he noticed was the hunger.

He hesitantly reached out to the clam chowder, which was annoyingly making his mouth water. But once his hand grabbed the rim of the bowl, he pulled it towards him as quick as he could and his hands and mouth worked in surprisingly fast coordination to devour the salty, delicious, and clam-filled chowder.

He was extremely dissatisfied when the clam chowder seemingly disappeared from the bowl after what seemed to be within a minute of eating. He reached for the cup and drank-

"HOT HOT HOT!" he screamed as he dropped the cup, which landed on his laps, which was covered by a very thin bed sheet, which didn't really do much in helping him with the hot liquid burning him. "GA-!"

The door to his room slammed open, and he found himself staring at ... fox ears?

"You're awake!" she smiled.

"Uh... yeah? You can se-?" But before he could finish his question, the girl disappeared back through the door. And then he heard some shouts through the ajar door.

"Guys, the shinigami is awake!"

That sounded like the girl who just met him, and she knew what he was.

"The pretty boy is awake? Let's go see him."

"Has he asked for anything?"

"I don't think so?"

"My first ever shinigami view!"

Oi oi oi, this sounds suspiciously like as if this family is treating me like a zoo exhibit.

"Grrr."

Was that a dog? No, that sounded much bigger.

His eyes widened as a rather diverse group of people started to enter his room.

The first person in was the cat -dog?- eared girl with fluffy tail. She looked like some otaku's wet dream. She wore an apron, a t-shirt that seemed to be a size too small for her, and a pair of jeans. He couldn't quite place what ethnicity she was, though. She seemed extremely cheerful.

The next person to come in was the girl's polar opposite. He looked depressed, which his wrinkles and stress lines only helped to bolster the idea, and wore very dark and heavy clothes.

The third person was ... odd. He had seen white haired people before (Toshirou comes to mind), but at the same time, the white of this man's hair seemed much more natural than Toshirou's, which looked awkward, considering that the captain in question looked like a 13 year old.

The last person to enter was a white haired girl. Was the girl the white haired man's daughter?

The girl came right up to him at top side before skidding to a halt. She looked over him like an artist would look over his masterpiece before she frowned.

"... You're boring."

Extremely rude too.

The dark haired, depressed looking man lightly chopped the girl's head, earning him a "Weiii~."

"Ilya, be polite. He's a guest."

"But he's boring. He's a shinigami but he doesn't have any of those pompous air that they do. He isn't even mildly curious about us too!"

The man sighed. "Pardon my daughter. She's ... excitable."

Excitable? More like invasive. Also, the white haired girl was the black haired man's daughter? "It's alright, I think. I have always been told that I am ... different," he replied. "But why am I here?"

"... Before we answer that, can you tell us why you were banged up as you were when we found you on our porch?" the white haired man asked. "Call me Vlad, kid."

"Alright ... Vlad. What do you all know about the Japanese afterlife?"

* * *

While the entirety of the household sans Harry was getting to know the orange shinigami, Harry was in his room.

Without supervision.

Without partner.

And definitely with his book.

He was alone, the room was hot, he was grumpy, and he had the Tome.

It was only natural he sought the means to solve the bothersome heat.

So he turned page after page in the tome, searching for the perfect solution to the heat.

"Make your own ice rune... Water Cooling Spell... Water Heating Spell... Ice Spear Spells..."

Harry intended to know all of these by the end of the day. There was no reason for him to not learn them, not when he could make the entire room cool and nice. However, these spells were not what he wanted to learn first.

Wasn't there a direct temperature control spell or something?

"Blood Cooling Spell... Sounds nice. 'Side Effect: You may die rather quickly.' Nope. Okay, anything else?" Harry frowned as he flipped through more pages. "Mystic Code: Frozen Heart?"

* * *

 _Frozen Heart_  
 _First Created by Alzni Mojius_

 _I once dreamed of a world that was so different from our own. In this world, magic was free and out in the open. For some reason though, I cannot for the life of me remember much about that world aside from this single mystic code._

 _It was called the Frozen Heart by the locals of that world, or perhaps my imagination. In my waning years, I can hardly tell apart reality from dream. But I still have my brain and knowledge, so I set out to create this mystic code. And I did this by coalescing my knowledge. Not bad, if I say so for myself, for a 177 year old pure human._

 _To create this mystic code, you must obtain knowledge in these fields:_

 _Wizardkin Arthimancy_  
 _Wizardkin Runes_  
 _Magi Rune Theories_  
 _Magi Bounded Field Theories_  
 _Magi Thaumaturgical Theory_  
 _Mundane Chemsitry_  
 _Mundane Physics_

 _The function of Frozen Heart is three-fold._

 _1\. Create an aura of ice similar to a Bounded Field yet not._

 _2\. Do not let the owner or the wielder of Frozen Heart be affected by its effect._

 _3\. Allow the owner or wielder to control how cold the affected area will be._

 _..._

* * *

Harry read through the chapter, and found himself wanting to make this Frozen Heart. It sounded like a cool mystic code, and considering that he didn't need to constantly have it on by simply willing the mystic code to not make the area not cold, it was a convenient little thing too.

But where would he keep it? If he made something like this, dad and Lily were very much likely to take it away. Ilya would surely scold him, but the heat was unbearable! Surely, they would be okay with him making just one tiny mystic code to cool the room?

He also knew that it was because of his ... previous actions with any knowledge in the tome, his family was very wary of anything magic he might perform.

That wasn't to say that he was not allowed to do it, just that he would be watched much more scrutiny. He knew that they loved him which was why they tried to stop him. Still, this was a cooler! He was making an air conditioner mystic code that he could carry anywhere; it's not going to hurt anyone. It was better to ask for forgiveness after he was done making it.

'But it's safer to get supervision,' a corner of his mind thought warily.

 _'My hands are itching to just make it on the spot...'_ another corner of his mind countered, and Harry could indeed feel the _need_ to stitch his magic together.

'Oh, but I should ask for permission. Less trouble that way...'

 _'No, I need to work on it right now. Time's wasting and heat is burning!'_

...

But where would he hide it though until he finished making it? It was supposed to take at least a month to complete.

'I really, really should get permission...'

* * *

"... So I faced off against Ywach, knowing full well that I may end up dying. I actually think I did die at one point, if not for Inoue."

"Then?" Despite her early misgivings about the shinigami, Ilya now found herself enraptured by his lifestory. If not for the fact that his life was just interesting, this man was a modern hero on par with Archer! "Then what happened?"

"I ... I don't know. I threw everything I had at him with my ultimate attack, a Gran Ray Cero. It struck Ywach, but he was also preparing his own attack. He tore open the fabric of reality to pull something out. That's when my Gran Ray Cero struck. There was some sort of explosion, and I was knocked out, but not before," he grinned. "Seeing Ywach burn away from being at the ground zero of the explosion."

"So the evil king is dead?"

"Yes. I believe so," Ichigo replied with a grin. "I can't feel him inside me anymore, and he's supposed to be the one who gave all Quincies their power, so a part of him is always alive in all Quincy and their descendants. The fact that I can't feel him anymore means that ... he's gone."

"Dad, dad, dad!" a voice shouted as soon as he finished his story. There was a fast rhythm of pittle pattles of a child's footsteps, and soon, a messy black haired child holding a really thick and large book was at the door way. "Can I make this?"

Kiritsugu excused himself from the bedside of the stunned shinigami and walked over to the child. He and the child talked before Kiritsugu nodded. He turned to Ilya. "Ilya, can you help your brother with this?" he asked her.

Ilya pouted. "But I want to know more about shinigamis!"

"He's going to be staying here for a while, so you'll have your time. But for now, help Harry," he replied.

She sighed. "Okay," she said and moved to join Harry. As they left the room and moved to what could be called "Harry's Workshop," Ilya looked at Harry. "Aren't you curious about the shinigami?"

Harry shook his head. "Boring people."

Ilya frowned. "No way."

"Book says they don't do anything except guide Japanese souls to their afterlife and fight monsters. Aurors, Executors, and Enforcers fight monsters too."

"If you put it that way..." Ilya pouted again.

She loved her little brother. He was a cute little thing. Kind of like a bookworm hamster(?), but at times, he was insufferable in ways only he could be.

He was so reliant on the book for everything, for one. Two, he dumbed down anything that he wasn't interested in so that it would kill others' interest in what he wasn't interested in.

Kind of manipulative that way, but Ilya couldn't fault him.

She did the same thing too.

"Okay, what do you need help on?" she asked as they reached the door. She opened it, revealing a small well-lit room. On one side of the room was desk and a chair with a lot of small tools. On the other side was another desk and chair pair, though much more comfy looking. This desk held a lot of wires on it.

"Well, I just needed permission, but I could use some help,'' Harry smiled. "I wanted to make this thing called 'Frozen Heart' here. See?"

Ilya took the tome where Harry opened it up and read through the mystic code's description and effects. "This may be a bit hard for you."

"I still want to do it! The house is too hot!"

Ilya deadpanned at him. "You want to make a mystic code ... because you want to have an air conditioner? Don't we already have one in the house?"

"But I can carry this anywhere with me," he countered.

Ilya admitted the idea of a mobile air conditioner did agree with her.

It wasn't like Harry was the only one wanting to do something about this bloody weather.

"Count me in," she grinned. Soon, they were working, and would be working until dinner.

* * *

As for Ichigo, after Ilya and Harry left, the questions about his life had drastically fallen. It was mostly Ilya asked him questions in the past half-an-hour or so, it was no wonder he got some breaks.

Soon after that, all but Kiritsugu, the father to the two physically very different children, was the only one left in the room with him.

"So what do you plan to do?" Kiritsugu asked.

"What do you mean?"

"Do you intend to go back to Japan?"

"Of course," Ichigo replied. "I mean, it's not like I don't have a reason not to."

"... I see," Kiritsugu nodded. "Well then, I hope you enjoy talking to your alternate twin about your presence here."

Ichigo blinked. "What?"

"After you appeared in front of us ... I did a little research," Kiritsugu said as he pulled out a small envelope that he had left in the nightstand's drawer right next to Ichigo's bed. "As a high ranking member of Mage's Association, I have access to information about a lot of things, including the Japanese Shinigami and the afterlife they are in charge of via the observations of Japanese magi who are affiliated with us.

"When I looked up all available information on your kind, I found some interesting data. For example, there has been no war between Soul Society and this traitor you speak of. Aizen Sosuke, yes?"

Ichigo felt a cold sweat on his forehead. "Wai-"

"Also, Quincies of Germany has yet to fight in any significant war. This is probably because of their small population. The data I collected and the story you told us are very ... different."

"No, it has to be wrong," Ichigo said as he snatched the envelope, which Kiritsugu had been holding out to him, and pulled out everything.

"Quincies did indeed have a leader by the name of Ywach, but he was killed and overthrown by a magus-Quincy hybrid by the name of Dzhosef Demidov of the House of Demidov, who rules the Moonlit Kingdom of European Quincy League to this day."

"this is imposs-"

"Unfortunately, I feel that you are a subject to the pranks of one Zelretch," Kiritsugu cut Ichigo off with a name for the said shinigmai to focus on. "He is a Dead Apostle Ancestor, a very old super vampire if you will, who has the Second True Magic, Kaledioscope, at his command. This magic allows him to access and travel across the multiverse at will..."

"Make him send me back!" Ichigo growled.

"... I did find him, and he told me that he could not."

"But he put him here! He has to take responsibility! No, no. Where is he? I'll beat it out of him."

Kiritsugu scoffed here. "Can you subjugate a god?"

"...What?"

"Can you subjugate a god? Zelretch is on such power level that your action will have no consequence unless you can subjugate a god. I ask again, can you subjugate a god?"

"... No," he muttered.

Kiritsugu sighed. "The reason why our Zelretch cannot put you back is because he doesn't know where you came from."

"But you just said-"

"This is because Zelretch, as he exists in the multiverse in multiple copies just like you and me, are also all pranksters and dicks. Their main form of entertainment is tossing someone from one universe to another for shits and giggles."

"... And no one does anything about it?"

"Mostly because his pranks, while not as benign as he claims them to be, is mostly beneficial."

"How is this beneficial?!"

"You claimed that you blacked out right after an explosion, did you not?"

"I did..." Ichigo replied, not knowing where this sudden question had anything to do with Zelretch.

"How big do you suppose that explosion was?"

Ichigo blinked. "What do you mean?"

"While he may be a prankster, I've learned that Zelretch has ... morals, albeit skewed as they are," Kiritsugu informed. "He never randomly selects someone to transfer between alternate universes. Rather, he chooses people who would not be missed, who no longer has a home, who no longer has anything to live for in their home world."

"But I had family and friends-!"

"The question returns then to this: how big was the explosion? Was strong was it? You and your Ywach were, as you claim, on near deity-tiers of power. This means that any sort of unintended explosions the collision of both of your powers may cause is also on the scale of near deity-tiers. Were your friends and family close by when the explosion happened?"

Ichigo paled, and he had every right to be.

His mind sunk into the watery depths of despair as he tried to think about how strong the explosion of his and Ywach's final clash had been.

But he knew himself. In that final clash, he had poured every ounce of his power to take out Ywach.

He knew himself.

He once split the entire landscape with a flick of his wrist.

He once carved a valley into the flat lands where there was once a forest.

...

And he unleashed all of it at a single point-

- _less than half a city's length away from his friends_.

"No, no, no-!"

Something struck his neck and he looked to Kiritsugu as he fell backward, his vision creeping with darkness.

"Take a rest, Ichigo. You don't exist in this world... yet."


	23. Chapter 23

**Now I want to discuss something.**

 **Is everything true? Are all written books true? It is was such, then our Earth should be in a non-heliocentric orbit, because all of the written books talking about astrology and astronomy talked of how Earth was the center of the universe. The same applies to the Obscure Tome.**

 **While everything within it works because the original authors of the articles within the Obscure Tome made it work, it doesn't mean that all theories and knowledge within the Obscure Tome will be true.**

 **It's in the name.**

 **Obscure.**

 **With that in mind, I hope you enjoy another chapter.**

* * *

It took a while for Shinigami Ichigo to understand the full situation that he was in. Instead of wallowing in self-pity, he thanked the Emiya Alliance for taking care of him and headed off to Japan with a promise that he would one day return the favor.

With the shinigami gone, the daily life of the Emiya Alliance returned to normal.

As he had speculated, it took Harry about a month to complete the Frozen Heart to his liking.

He made the mystic code into an amulet no bigger than his thumb with a octagon cut sapphire in the middle of a bronze frame serving as the runic template and the prana storage. The Frozen Heart was a mystic code, Harry discovered, that drew in prana from the atmosphere before using the said prana to execute a minor mystery which converts the surrounding air of its wielder to a cooler temperature.

'It was odd, ' Ilya thought as she stared at her own copy of the mystic code.

Thaumaturgy dictated that more of its system is being utilized, less effective it becomes. And yet, Harry and her Frozen Heart amulet retained the maximum effective power and area of effect described in the Obscure Tome.

This made no sense.

The two Frozen Hearts were identical in how they utilized the Thaumaturgy with very little difference, and this means that there are two identical mysteries occupying the same "position" within the Thaumaturgic system engraved upon the world. This should theoretically reduce the effectiveness of the mystic codes in question by half.

And yet...

Ilya activated her Frozen Heart, and watched in wonder as tree in front of her froze instantly.

The effectiveness of her Frozen Heart had remained as strong as the book described it to be.

" 'Frozen Heart is capable of bringing down the internal temperature of a elephant from normal to below that of the coldest of arctic winters in a second,' " she recited a passage from the Obscure Tome.

She punched the tree as hard as her body could muster, and watched in awe as the entire frozen tree shattered into millions of tiny particles.

"... It's something, isn't it, Berserker?"

The giant who stood behind her grunted.

"Let's go home. I think it's Shirou's turn to cook dinner today."

* * *

"It's not a question about whether you recognize it or not, Jinnfield. It's about whether or not you're going to come quietly or with a fight," Kiritsugu demanded.

The woman in question trembled.

The two of them were in an alley. He, a hunter. She, a prey.

Jennifer Susan Jinnfield. A member of the Black Mamba Ring. Famous for her dealings with notoriously dangerous items banned by the Wizengamot. Wanted dead or alive for 330 galleons.

Kiritsugu cared little about Jinnfield's wanted status with the Wizengamot. He cared more about information that she could provide for him about the Black Mamba Ring, which was his current target.

"H-H-How do I know you won't fuck me and kill me?" she asked, putting up a brave front.

"I'm not interested in sexual intercourse," he deadpanned. "I'm after your entire organization."

"That's suicide! You're going to get caught and rat me out!"

"Does that mean you want to fight?" he asked and then snapped his fingers.

Vlad appeared to her right with his lance materializing and trained on her throat, mere inches away.

"...Fine," she spat. "What do you want to know?"

"Everything," he replied as he pulled out a small pendent. It was a normal pendent without any special ability, but Jinnfield didn't know that. "This here is a lie detector. If you lie, then this here will tell me that you did. The moment you do it, I'll put a lead in your head and collect on your bounty."

It didn't take long for Jinnfield to diverge all information she had about her former comrades before Kiritsugu let her go.

"You sure about letting her go?" Vlad asked as he spun his lance before resting it on his shoulder. "She could warn the others."

Kiritsugu shook his head. "I already put a tracker, listener, and a bomb on her. If she talks, it'll go off, taking out anyone in the vicinity."

Vlad stared at Kiritsugu before grinning. "Sneaky beaky."

"I try. Anyways, we should move on what Jinnfield told us quickly. It won't be long before the underworld of Wizarding Britain knows that the Magus Killer is after the Black Mamba."

Vlad chuckled. "Oh, I missed hunting like this," he commented. "I really did."

* * *

Shirou was in his smithy, forging more blades for his family.

* * *

Tamamo no Mae was leading a interesting day.

She was out in the mundane world, searching for potential mundaneborns, both wizardkin and magikin.

Her mission, given to her by Kiritsugu, was simple: find mundaneborns to provide patronage over.

This mission was put into action because of several things.

The background for the Emiya Alliance was that all of the Servants and the regular people -as in non-Servants- were alerted to the fact that an alien invasion may be less than a century away. As one of the three Europe-based Wizard Marshall, Kiritsugu had the obligation of building up an army to fend off such an invasion.

However, the current political climate of all magical European nations were shit.

Great Britain's magical communities were split between four factions: Irish, Welsh, Scottish, and English. Kind of like the de jure kingdoms. Irish did nothing with the British. Welsh and Scottish had declared independence from the English overlords. The latter three's hostility made recruitment hell, and Irish were ... isolationist as always.

Magical France was in similar situation. Magical Aquitiaine, which had existed since the 7th century, had gotten into a skirmish with Magical Paris over a farm that produces acromantula silk. However, recruitment was going to be much easier because of how populous the two magical communities were compared to Magical Britain.

Central and Eastern Magical European communities were embroiled in their own wars. Except Lithuania. The rulers of Magical Lithuania, the Geminidis, were powerful wizards and witches and very neutral in all affairs. Because of this, Lithuania was a haven for refugees.

This, of course, meant that the Emiya Alliance needed to pay attention to only one area in Eastern Europe.

Back to Tamamo.

Her mission today was to recruit young mundaneborns to be taken under the patronage of the Emiya Alliance.

The first in the long list of mundaneborns...

The Artrason.

* * *

The Artrason considered themselves to be normal, or as normal as normals go.

The father, James Artrason, was a realtor in his late 40's.

The mother, Margaret Artrason was a housewife with a little bit of interest in gem cutting.

The eldest, James Artrason Jr., was a highschool student.

The middleling, Xavier Artrason, was a middleschool student.

The youngest, Norman Artrason, was a elementary student.

Right now, school was out for the summer. The family had opted to stay home and have fun with what they can without spending too much money. Movies here and there. Outings regularly.

Stuff like that.

Very regular.

Very calm.

...

At least until something ticks off Norman.

Then everything becomes abnormal.

And the woman in front of them just said that she could explain what the cause could be.

"You can explain what's happening with Norman?" Margaret asked. "Ms...?"

The ethereally beautiful woman smiled. "Tamy. Tamy Emiya. I'm here on behalf of the Emiya Alliance to introduce your son -and your family in extension- to a world you don't know about."

'Now, that sounded kind of like a sales pitch,' Margaret thought. "...You're not some government agency?"

She laughed nervously. "Sorry, I didn't know how else to say it. Let me show you instead, but it'll require you to invite me inside. It's ... illegal to publicly display our abilities."

Margaret nodded slowly before she nodded certainly. "Please, come in. I'm sorry for not inviting you in earlier."

'Tamy Emiya' smiled. "It's alright. I understand this is something to be wary about."

Artrason house was normal. Its seafoam paint walls, carpeted living room and halls, and the not overly luxurious furniture marked such a home. And the matriarch of the Artasons was proud of it.

"Please," Margaret spoke. "Take a seat."

Her visitor smiled -she did that a lot- and took a seat.

"It's best if your son was here. It'll make the conversation and the process upon which you and your family will understand this easier."

Margaret nodded. She stood up and walked over to the stairs. "Guys! We have a visitor."

Soon, there was a thrum of footsteps.

First, it was the eldest who appeared.

He looked immediately enraptured by Ms. Emiya's beauty.

Second, it was her husband.

He gave Ms. Emiya a glance before giving her a raised eyebrow.

Third, it was Xavier.

He looked at Ms. Emiya, then at her. She shrugged.

And at least, Norman came down.

When Norman saw Ms. Emiya, her eyes widened.

"Mom, why do we have a furry enthusiast in our house?"

All of the Artrasons looked at their youngest. "Norman!" she chatised her son before turning to mutter an apology to Ms. Emiya.

... Who was laughing gracefully.

"A possessor of True Eyes, aren't you? Have you seen things that were different from what others saw?" she asked.

Norman nodded.

She smiled. Ms. Emiya waved her hand ...

... And at the end of that wave, an orange tail and a pair of orange and white large fox ears appeared on her.

Everyone gawked at her, and she smiled.

"Norman Artrason. Or should I say, descendant of the Artraxiad Dynasty of Kingdom of Armenia?" Tamy Emiya giggled. "You're a wizard, Norman."

* * *

 _...of "Thaumaturgy" is limited compared to other systemic magecrafts of the world._

 _While the many magi believe that Thaumaturgy receives its power from the Root, it is the creator of its system, the Biblical God, who is the original creator of Thaumaturgy, not the Root, that is the power behind thaumaturgy. Thaumaturgy was a systematical implementation of realizing mysteries through the logic of humans designed and devised by the Biblical God to give the humans a means to fight off Phantasmal Beasts that plagued the ancients lands._

 _This is the very reason why the Thaumaturgy system is flawed; God never intended it to be more than just that: a means of self-defense. It was never meant to "grow strong" or "make impossible possible." Those are mere human notions. The Biblical God's reason, as far as Solomon and his few magi descendents could tell, wanted thaumaturgy to be the pillar of protection that humans never had before._

 _To become reliant upon His power._

 _To become free of fickle heretic gods and heroes._

 _The end of the beginning of his plan, and the start of the main stage of his plan for humanity._

 _The last known descendant of Solomon theorized that it was the failure of His thaumaturgy being properly used by his believers as well as the decline of the Age of Gods that led the Biblical God to create the Messiah._

 _And with his reason being thaumaturgy as a means of protection against Phantasmal Beasts, He didn't allocate more than what He believed was the necessary amount of power._

 _This is the reason why the modern Church, no matter whether this Church is the Roman, Orthodox, Anglican, Sunni, Shia, or Protestant, has the greatest power among all branches of thaumaturgy; they practice the closest to the very reason for thaumaturgy's reason for existence, not to mention closest in being connection to the very deity that created the system! Its effective area is then improved by the number of believers, which only gives the great power under the command of the His Church flexibility that magi can never have._

 _Not when they are so busy with "reaching Akasha" and "making impossible possible."_

 _Ha!_

 _I pity them._

 _Their ancestor was fooled themselves, and that foolishness has never left them because of their arrogance and their self-righteous belief. It is because of such idea that Alaya was born._

 _But these are all beside the point._

 _Thaumaturgy is not the only system that has engraved itself into the world._

 _There are Uchahila (Swahili), Shenli Gongyi (Chinese), Manatuahanga (Maori), and more. These systems are restrained in power and effective area merely because they lack the believers to empower the effective area._

 _Regardless, I would still like someone to double check my research, but the damnable Holy Church and the magi won't give two shits about my work!_

 _It certainly doesn't help it when I'm currently working as the Spymaster for the Holy Roman Emperor who kicked the Pope and his church out of Rome._


	24. Chapter 24

Harry tilted his head, a cute gesture from a boy soon to be eleven years old.

He held in his hands a single letter with a receiver address that was ... abnormal.

And anything abnormal was magic as far as Harry was concerned.

To: Harry Potter  
Resident of the 4th Largest Room in the Emiya Cabin  
A cottage out of the way in Cornwall, England

It had a stamp of "Owl Post" and a "Ministry of Magic" on the top left and right, respectively.

"Dad! I got a funny letter!" he shouted for his father as he carried his letter and the rest of the mail they received to the kitchen, where most of the Emiya members were still eating at.

Kiritsugu poked his head out from the news he had been reading on his iPad -BBC News- and lowered the computer glasses he had on. "A letter for you, Harry?" he asked as he turned off iPad and walked over to the center of the kitchen from his reading corner between the kitchen and the living room.

Kakashi quickly swapped a brown package about the size of a book.

Vlad pulled out his own Magical Bulgarian newspaper from the pile of mail.

Rin gave one look before going back to eating her sinfully delicious English breakfast.

Archer harrumphed and grumbled about the lack of speedy delivery from the warehouse.

Ilya grabbed a brown package herself, but she ripped hers open and cackled about Diablo III.

Lily "Saber" Pendragon didn't even diverge from her elegant food-to-mouth shoveling.

Remus Lupin was enjoying the wonders of lycanthropy-suppression mystic code Harry made for him; he was enjoying a good English breakfast surrounded by people a few hours after a full moon night without having turned into a werewolf. No pain, no fuss.

Tamamo was the only one really paying attention.

Harry took the letter and gave it to Kiritsugu.

The patriarch of the Emiya Alliance opened it up and read through it.

"'Dear Mr. Potter,'" he began out loud. "'We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment. Term begins on September 1st. We await your owl no later than July 31st.' Well, it's here."

Then two more owls were seen outside flying towards them.

Unfortunately, they ran into the Boundary Field surrounding the house and were knocked off course to the ground.

Kiritsugu sighed as he walked out, disabled the field, and allowed the owls to perch on the kitchen window. He took the two letters they were carrying and walked back in.

"... Two more Hogwarts letter. One for Shirou, and another for Ilya."

Ilya giddily bounced out of her chair, and took her Hogwarts letter from her father. She ripped hers open and read. "Wait, why am I being placed in the same year as Harry? I'm older than Shirou!"

Kiritsugu frowned. "Perhaps it's because of your physical age?"

She mistook Kiritsugu's question and looked down at her flat chest.

For a girl who was supposedly seventeen years old, she really had a flat chest and short height. She silently cursed the Einzberns for her body as a single tear of despair dripped down from her eyes. Tamamo patted her head as consolation. Ilya turned around and hugged the buxom demigod. "I hate wizards," she declared firmly.

A few chuckles rung in the kitchen of the Emiya Cabin before it was Shirou's turn to frown.

"Robes? Wands?"

"A tradition of theirs," Kiritsugu supplied.

While Ilya and Shirou knew that they were to attend Hogwarts, now that Kiritsugu's own influence provides enough protection from less scrupulous magi, they didn't think that a school that had survived to modern age would require _robes_ for uniform.

That was crazy.

Harry didn't care. He was finally going to a place where he will meet other children his age who weren't his family!

He was going back to school!

The thought about homeworks dampened that joy a little, though.

"Well, it's time for us to go to Diagon Alley, then," Kiritsugu said. "Because I am in no way going to take you to Denmark for a wand of all things."

* * *

 **-AvA-**  
 **-ThObTo-**

* * *

In a house far out and away from civilization, a kitchen made a lot of noises.

There was no one standing inside the kitchen, though, and yet, the dishes, rags, dusters, and water flowed freely in a slew of movements whose description could only be called "army-coordination." Not a single drop of water was wasted nor did a single bubble escape the kitchen sink. A dish was washed in the bubbling water, dried, and tucked away without fuss or mess.

But all things come to an end.

"FRED AND GEORGE WEASLEY!"

As the angry matron of the house roared those words, the delicate network of spells holding the entirety of the kitchen clean -and cleaning- fell apart from the overload of mana. The dishes fell where they were, the rags stopped moving and fell, and water splashed out on to the floor.

This was the Burrow, the home of the Weasley Clan, one of the Ancient and Noble Houses of the Magical England.

Arthur Weasley, the patriarch of the family, sighed as he spread his newspaper out widely in front of himself. "Strangely," he muttered to himself. "This is the first time of the day that Molly is calling on those two."

Indeed. It was still summer, which meant that Fred and George Weasley, the self-proclaimed successors to the pranking legacy of the Marauders, were bored. And bored pranksters weren't good for the soul nor heart.

He checked the time of the day, and was surprised to find that it was noon. Normally, the twin Weasleys would be getting their mother to scream at them much before that."

"Ron, come get your Hogwarts mail!"

There was a rumble as a stampede of footfalls rained down on the admittedly creaking and shaking wooden stairs of the Burrow. And then after a few seconds, a red haired boy -much like Arthur's own- appeared at the bottom of the staircase and ran over to his mother, who was pulling her wand out to fix the kitchen.

She held it away from him when he tried to snatch it away from her. "Ron, what did I tell you about things in other people's hands?"

"B-But that's mine!" the young boy protested.

She narrowed her eyes at him, which stilled him immediately.

"... May I have my letter please?" he asked her politely.

She nodded, and handed him the letter. He took it slowly ... before bolting away from her and to him.

"Dad, dad, dad! I got my Hogwarts letter! Let's go get my wand!"

He chuckled, even though he was cringing inwardly.

A week ago, he had received his paycheck.

Of course, he was no longer working for the English Witengamot but the Welsh Witengamot, who were much more muggle friendly. Unfortunately for him, while his pay rate had been increased, so had the prices of all goods in Diagon Alley. This was due to the rise in the prices the English Witengamot had set against Welsh and Scottish wizards and witches over the secession of their respective wizarding communities.

A wand that would normally cost 5 galleons now costed the family 20 galleons.

Yes, the new "tax" was 15 galleons.

This was not calculating everything else.

Well, he could afford the wand, but everything else would have be either bought from other alleys and families or given to Ron second-handed.

Fred and George's robes can be used again by Ron, but wands were different. It would be much better for Ron's education if he had a compatible wand.

"Alright, Ron," Arthur said as he rose up from his chair, folding and setting his newspaper aside. "Let's go get your wand. To Diagon Alley!"

Ron whooped.

"No one is going anywhere until they get their lunch!" Molly shouted from the kitchen.

Arthur herded Ron to the kitchen for the sandwiches his wife had prepared for the family.

It didn't take his youngest son to wolf down on the sandwich, but he took a much sweeter time, all the while enjoying Ron's anticipation build up. He went far as to take a very _long_ sip of his coffee, which caused Molly and Ron to glare at him. He only chuckled before finishing up.

Fred and George's prankster nature had to come out of somewhere.

When Ron and his father entered Diagon Alley through the Leaky Cauldron, the alley was a sight to behold. Unlike when Kiritsugu had first entered the alley earlier this year, there were much more parents and children of all ages running about.

Arthur knew who he had to thank for this.

The news went around about two weeks ago about the devastation of the latest Dark Lord and his allies at the hands of the "Magus Killer."

He very much disapproved of the methods that the "Magus Killer" had used to take out the Dark Lord and his supporters. From what the Prophet, the Quibbler, and few minor magical newspapers were reporting, the "Magus Killer" had used everything from torture, extortion, kidnapping, and outright slaughter of the largest gathering of the Dark Lord's supporters to rid the wizarding Britain of the terrorist group.

While many of the wizards and witches were happy with the sweeping of the terrorists, an equal number of peple were not.

Particularly, the pureblood supremacists and the families of those who had been killed tried very hard to get him arrested and executed.

When he was called up by the Witengamot to stand trial as he was still being accused, Kiritsugu the Magus Killer pulled out a card no one had thought of.

Wizard Marshall.

A title that belonged less than a dozen men and women around the world, whose sole charged purpose was to make sure the continued existence of magic. Completely untouchable by law. They were powerful people like Albus Dumbledore the Professor and Yuwan Shei the Cabal Emperor.

Kiritsugu revealed himself to be a Wizard Marshall, accepted into position by none other than Zelretch, the Kaledioscope. Most of the wizards and witches on the Witengamot seats were cowed immediately, but a few tried to attack the Magus Killer anyway. They got their due when the Magus Killer's bodyguard appeared and sliced them up with mercy on the spot.

Arthur may not have approved of the man's methods, but he sure was still thankful for the safety the Magus Killer had generated with his mere hands-on approach to the state of the Wizarding Britain. After all, the streets and the alleys were safer because of him.

"Alright, Ron," he said to his son as he lowered himself down to meet his son's eye level. "You know the drill, don't you boy?"

Ron nodded his head frantically. "We go straight to Olivander's, I know. But can't we visit the broom shop?" he asked with a whine at the end.

He shook his head as he stood up. "No, Ron. The alley isn't safe as it used to be. Besides, you won't be joining the quidditch team this year, right?" he asked in return.

His youngest son pouted and remained silent.

"Alright then, let's go see what kind of a wand you get."

* * *

While Ron and Arthur Weasley went to get their wand, Remus was doing something else in the alley.

Namely, gathering shepherding the large group of children who had become wards of the Emiya Alliance.

He and his group was already at the famous wand shop, and the old wandmaker was matching up everyone to their new wands.

Remus knew that the wands, though, won't be used in a few years time.

In his time with the Emiya Alliance, especially Tamamo, Shirou, and Illyasviel, he had learned much about the world of magic beyond the narrow view of the wizardkin. Oh, he had seen much before his introduction into the Emiya Alliance due to his lycanthropy forcing away from the mainstream magical communities to seek his employment, but even then, he had seen only a small part of what the "Moonlit World" had to offer.

He received a tour of the Clock Tower. He met and talked with various staff and student of the Mage's Association, and even met another Wizard Marshall.

As if it was his calling, he learned fast and learned to teach even faster; in return for the tours and interviews he got, he was asked to speak about the Moonlit World from a wizardkin perspective. Apparently, being a lycanthrope wizard speaking in the Clock Tower was a rarity. Many people came to his session, and he shared many things about his own life and the magic he learned.

It was there that Kiritsugu told him that he was going to be put in charge of teaching _children_.

 _"Oh, no no no no, I-I can't," Remus put his hands up and shook them. "I'm a werewolf! No parent would put me close to their children!"_

It was a month before when the Hogwarts letter would be arriving. Remus had been called up to Kiritsugu's office and told

 _"I don't mind, and I'm your employer," Kiritsugu replied. "Besides, we did agree to give you a saferoom during the full moon as stated in the contract amendment. This will minimize your contact with the children anyway during when your lycanthropy is contagious, so you don't have anything to fear. Also, the parents of the children who will be learning under you won't be alerted to this. It is not a detail that they need to be aware of in the first place, not that it matters."_

 _"...What do you mean 'not that it matters'?" he asked, a bit scared about the response._

 _"All of the parents had signed a contract, especially those from the lower classes," Kiritsugu replied as he walked over to one of the cabinets and pulled out a file. "Due to the heavy cost Hogwarts would put on their shoulders -and the fact that even I can't provide that much capital for thirty students-, I have decided that the Emiya Alliance will have direct control over what the children will learn. This naturally means that they will not be going to Hogwarts."_

 _"Then-?"_

 _"I intend to set up a school on our own. I have already bought a building, so we only need to renovate the place. You will also be helping us in this regard."_

 _"...Buying a building is easier than paying for Hogwarts?"_

 _"When the exchange rate has spiked due to unrest and because we have a lot of children as our ward? Yes, definitely," he said as he handed Remus the file he had pulled out a few moments ago._

 _Remus took it and read it._

 _"T-This is harsh!"_

 _"Harsh?"_

 _"You're turning these children into indentured servants!"_

 _"How so?"_

 _"They literally have to sell years of their service to you after they graduate!"_

 _"It is only five years, hardly their life," Kiritsugu scoffed. "They will also be paid depending on how they do at their job, so I don't see how this is a problem? Everyone involved, including the parents and the children, knew what was at stake. Most of these parents could not afford to send their children to Hogwarts without threatening the stability of their lives. You know what the Ministry of Magic does to first generation children and their parents who refuse to attend school, right?"_

 _Remus grimaced. Of course, he knew. If the child and the parents refused, obliviators would come and wipe the memories clean before binding the child's core. It was not a ethical law to remove memories of people like that against their will, but such was the Statute of Secrecy._

 _He nodded._

 _"Good. Now, let's discuss what you will be teaching for years to come..."_

In the end, it was decided that Remus would be teaching the children the Emiya Alliance version of Defense against Dark Arts, Runes, and Arithmacy. He knew that a few other teachers were to be hired to cover other parts of basic education.

"Remus!"

Remus looked over his shoulder, and found himself looking at Arthur Weasley.

"Arthur!" he smiled as he turned around. "It's been too long."

Arthur shook the werewolf's hand without any of the usual wariness seen among wizardkin. "Too true, too true! You have to come visit us sometime, Remus. Molly would be glad to have you with us when the children are gone for Hogwarts."

Remus gave the man an apologetic smile. "Arthur-"

"And I don't want to hear your self-depreciating drabbles. What would James think if he saw you like this?"

"I-"

"So come visit us, will you? We'll even call the old order members together for the occasion, share some news and see if we can't get you some steady job!"

'Arthur, you are too honest,' Remus thought to himself. "Arthur. I have a job."

"In the muggle world? T-"

"No. With the Emiya's."

Arthur blinked, and then blanched. "T-They're not forcing you to work for them, are they?!"

Remus chuckled. "Of course not. What do you take me for, Arthur?"

The man stuttered a little before composing himself. "It's just ... it's under the control of _that_ man, isn't it?"

"Who?" he asked.

"You know ... that Wizard Marshall."

"You mean Kiritsugu?"

Arthur nodded.

Remus nodded, confused. "... Umm, Arthur. Just what kind of news is going around about the Emiyas?"

* * *

 **Magical Communities of Great Britain!**

 **Wizarding English**  
 **Population: 79,032**  
 **Government: Noble Republic**  
 **Major Centers: Diagon Alley**

 **Wizarding Scottish**  
 **Population: 31,007**  
 **Government: Council Republic**  
 **Major Centers: Hogsmeade**

 **Wizarding Welsh**  
 **Population: 23,911**  
 **Government: Direct Democracy**  
 **Major Centers: Ream Alley**

 **Wizarding Irish**  
 **Population: 49,980**  
 **Government: Magical Clan/Tribal Federation**  
 **Major Centers: Seamount Alley**

 **Mage's Association(Clock Tower)**  
 **Population: 8,905**  
 **Government: Noble Republic**  
 **Major Centers: British Museum**


	25. Chapter 25

When Harry looked up from the wand he was given -probably one of the many that would end up as a burning wreck-, he found himself looking at the expectant eyes of Olivander.

The wandmaker was similar to Shirou in some ways. Both he and Shirou were crafters, and they both had high standards for their arts. Shirou made swords and Olivander made wands.

And they both had this slight crazed gleam hidden deep inside their eyes.

It made Harry slightly nervous.

"Umm... so what do I do?" he asked the wandmaker.

"Just give it a swish-"

 _PFFFTTTTT_

Everyone stared at Harry, whose ears were reddening. "Did that wand just far-?" someone asked, but he was quickly cut off when Harry glared at him.

Olivander chuckled anyway. "Try this one then," he said as he took the wand in Harry's hand, and shoved another into the other hand.

Harry gave an angry swish.

Remus ducked just as a long, barbed whip transfigured from the tip of the wand. In ducking, he dodged a slash from the whip. The slash went on to tear through the front window.

"Oh my," Olivander muttered. "Try this then."

* * *

Towards the end of Remus and Arthur's conversation, Harry blew up.

"That's it, I'm going to make my own!" Harry roared in his own childish way and stomped out of the wand shop after the 37th mismatched wand.

"Wait!" Remus said as he tried to catch Harry, but the boy slipped into the crowd of the busy Diagon Alley. "Damn..."

"Who was that Remus? One of the children in your care?" Arthur asked.

"That was Harry."

Arthur's eyes widened. "Harry? Harry Potter?"

Remus nodded. "This is a problem."

"Of course it's a problem! The Boy-Who-Lived can't be without his wand," Arthur agreed.

'I'm not worried about that,' the werewolf thought to himself. 'I'm worried he'll make something and make a huge mess out of it.'

While he may not have worked for the Emiya Alliance for long, he had been in their cabin when its residents created some odd things.

"Look, Mr. Lupin!" Harry said excitedly as he ran up to the werewolf.

At first, Remus had avoided his dead friend's son because he wasn't sure if he should be near the boy. That assumption was cleared out of him after a single -forced- sparring session between himself and Berserker during a Full Moon. That beast of a man pounded the werewolf to the ground, and had a skin tough enough to resist breaking under a werewolf's bite.

So he knelt down to see what the tiny Prongslet had made.

Only for Harry to trip-

-and for him to receive a face full of what he would later describe as 'the coldest frostbite his nose had ever met in the middle of English summer.'

He shuddered.

If Harry really decided to make his own 'mystic code' and only use that, then there was no stopping Harry.

"Remus?"

The werewolf snapped out of his daze. "Uhh yes?" he asked as he turned around. He was faced with Olivander and the rest of the wards of the Emiya Alliance.

"I think your children are ready to head back, if young Harry won't be coming back."

Remus's shoulders dropped. "Yes, sir."

* * *

Harry grumbled as he made his way back to the Leaky Cauldron, which was where everyone was supposed to meet should they get lost.

He, however, cared little about meeting up with the group. Stewing in his own thoughts, he stomped his way over to one of the corner tables and sat down, causing the wood to creak from the force Harry exerted.

'So stupid,' he thought angrily. 'I don't need one of those wizard mystic codes. I can make my own! Why do I have to go through such weird process? Clearly, that old fucker just wanted to mess with me.'

And Harry did have the ability to make a mystic code to serve as a "wand." Certainly, he could ask for help from Caster, Shirou, and Ilya. Even his father, if he really got desperate because his father was not a craftsman by trade.

Tamamo could tell him about how the eastern mages, wizardkin, and shamans designed their mystic codes. Ilya could help him make it, and Shirou could infuse intent into parts that he needed! He won't subject himself to some old hickory stick's public display, especially not over a mystic code he didn't even want!

"Harry Potter?"

Harry looked up, and found himself staring at a man.

This man looked different from the rest of the wizardkin in the Leaky Cauldron bar. For one, in the orangish background, the man managed to cast an impressive shadow. He had a long beard and a pointy hat with any brim. The hat and the robe he wore sparkled in eye-tearing pink and black.

"Yes?"

The old man bowed a little, though it may have been just a nod. "I see, I see. You seem ... unhappy. Why are you unhappy?" he asked him. "May I take a seat?"

Harry nodded.

As the stranger sat down, Harry saw the old man's detail better.

For one, he wore a pair of half-mooned glasses. His eyes also seemed to sparkle, kind of like how Tamamo's eyes sparkled when she was happy -usually a night with Shirou results in such sparkly eyes with Tamamo (whatever they did in the night).

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Potter. My names is Albus Dumbledore. I'm the headmaster of Hogwarts."

Harry blinked. "Oh, hello," he replied. "Nice to meet you too?"

Mr. Dumbledore chuckled. "It's been a while since I saw you, and you've grown healthily."

Harry nodded slowly. "You saw me ... before?"

"Ah yes. James and Lily were my students too, you know. I don't carry this long beard around because I'm young."

"Right. So my birth parents were your students too?"

He nodded. "Yes, yes. But birth parents, Harry? Aren't they your only parents?"

Harry frowned. "I'm adopted."

The Headmaster blinked. "Ah. I see. I hadn't learned of that."

Tilting his head to the right, Harry replied. "I was in Japan. It's unlikely that you would have."

The headmaster stroked his beard. "That would explain why the Japanese Minister of Magic had been so smug for the last decade or so..." he muttered to himself, but Harry heard him.

"You met that old man?"

"You've met him too?" Albus asked of the Boy Who Lived.

Harry nodded. "Dad, Shirou, and I wanted to move to Britain for our schooling. You know, your school."

He nodded.

"So Dad put in the paperworks for magical international moving. Turns out the Minister wanted to persuade him otherwise."

"Why would he want to do that, my boy?"

Harry shrugged. "Shirou told me that Dad does a very good job."

"What kind of a job does he have?"

"You all know him as the Magus Killer."

* * *

It had been weeks since the news about the disastrous failure of an attack upon Mage's Association spread through out the Wizarding Britain.

As usual, the Magical Scottish, Welsh, and Irish laughed at Magical England's stupidity and bad luck.

On the other hand, the wizards and witches of Great Britain began to harbor a fear.

'What if the Magi retaliate?'

It was concern that was immediately brought up in the Witengamot.

Albus Dumbledore, even if he was no longer the Chief Warlock of the Witengamot, attended those sessions as guest of House Longbottom.

Today was one such day, and he left the session in its second break. It was obviously going nowhere.

Seeing nothing else important was on his schedule -and paperwork back at Hogwarts was done and gone-, Albus decided to loiter around and greet his old students around the entire Diagon Alley.

He had the time.

He started it with visiting the Leaky Cauldron.

To his surprise, he saw a boy he had been searching for the last decade.

Harry Potter.

His grandson.

He trembled a little, joy blossoming within himself.

'Finally,' he thought. 'After all these years, I found you.'

But he paused before his body moved on his own.

When Fudge took himself out with a powerful Obliviate and destroyed the record at the same time -something most people considered to be an act caused by Imperio-, the Ministry of Magic lost all record regarding Harry Potter, their Boy-Who-Lived.

Dumbledore had searched all over for his legacy and lineage, but had failed. He had even searched the mind of the Dursleys, but found a blur when he came upon the memory he desperately wanted.

Where had he been? He wanted to ask.

How have you bee? He wanted to ask.

Did you learn about Magic?

Did you have fun? Who raised you?

A question that would be met with hostility if he suddenly approached the boy. After all, even though he knew the boy, the boy certainly did not know him. He was a stranger to the boy.

He would have to be gentle about this. Take his time.

"Harry Potter?" he called as he took a few steps forward, giving the boy enough personal space.

The conversation went on from there.

Ah. That Japanese Minister. No wonder he was smug.

Adopted, huh. Who?

So he had adopted siblings? That was nice to know. Perhaps they gave Harry the love he needed.

Their father? Someone that the Japanese Minister wanted to keep for his skills?

He must've been skilled for a minister to attempt a personal persuasion to keep the man in his homeland.

"What kind of a job does he have?"

"You all know him as the Magus Killer."

...

Oh.

Oh...!

Oh, bloody hell.

* * *

When Remus found Harry again, he was talking with _Albus Fucking Dumbledore_ of all people.

"Harry!" he called out a little bit more

Albus and Harry both looked to him.

"Ah, Remus!" Albus called out with a smile.

However, Remus was a werewolf. Even if Albus attempted to cover himself with a smile, his pale complexion and sweaty smell was a dead give away to a werewolf's eyes and nose. "Albus, I'll talk with you after I send the children back to school."

"Of course," the headmaster opted to wait. He turned to Harry. "It was a pleasure meeting you, Harry."

"It was a pleasure meeting you too, Headmaster Dumbledore."

With that Harry joined the rest of the children of the Emiya Alliance, and they left through the floo as Remus instructed on how to use it. Once all of the children were through the floo and arrived safely on the other side -with Harry carrying a message to Kiritsugu about Remus staying to talk with an old friend-, Remus turned to the wizened wizard.

"Albus, are you alright?" he asked with a frown.

Albus opened his mouth. "I..." Then he closed them. There was a pause before he pulled out his wand and cast a privacy charm. Then he looked straight into Remus's eyes. "How did Harry end up in _his_ care?"

Remus frowned. "Him? You mean Mr. Emiya?"

Albus nodded. "Yes, him."

"From what I know, he was asked by Fudge to take care of Harry because Fudge didn't think England was safe for the pup."

"I see. And when did you find out about this?"

"A month ago? A week ago? Definitely not too long ago. I've been in Mr. Emiya's service for less than two months so far."

"And how are you then? What kind of work does he give you?"

"...The latter question would breach the magical contract I made with him, so I cannot answer that. But I'm fine and healthy, thank you for asking, headmaster," remus replied with a smile.

"But _him_?" Albus sounded desperate.

"...Albus, why do you keep calling Mr. Emiya 'him'?"

"Because he is the Magus Killer," Albus almost whined. "He is one of the most dangerous people that anyone can come across!"

"O~kay, I don't know about how dangerous Mr. Emiya is aside from how cunning he can be, but he's not dangerous compared to the others." Remus covered his mouth in a hurry at the slip-up.

"...Others? You mean to say that Harry is surrounded by people who makes The Magus Killer, the murderer of ten thousand wizards, witches, and magi, look insignificant?!" Dumbledore thundered in horror.

Thank the Lord that they had a privacy charm around them, or everyone in the Leaky Cauldron would have heard him.

Remus too paled at the revelation he just heard.

"Ten thousand-?!"

"You did not know, truly?"

"No! I didn't even know that I was working for someone with higher kill count than Voldemort!"

Albus sighed. "Voldemort is nothing compared to the Magus Killer. Voldemort knew how to control politics and had some charisma to steer people. He knew how to cling to life. The Magus Killer? If he thought that the Order of Phoenix was a threat like Voldemort had, then we would have been wiped out a week after he determined so. Surviving the Magus Killer's attack is akin to a miracle, Remus. Even the Magi of the Clocktower and Mage's Association fear him...!"

"Then why is a murderer like him allowed to walk free...?"

"Because he never killed without reason. His targets were other killers, researchers of forbidden magic, or powerhungry fools who overstepped the lines."

"I ... see..."

"...How is Harry doing under the Magus Killer's care? He is not forced to do anything, is he?"

Remus shook his head. "No. Harry does what he wants. Actually, he's one of the main bringers of chaos in the Emiya Alliance."

Albus frowned. "He's a eleven year old child, Remus. How bad could it be?"

The werewolf raised an eyebrow. "He once attempted to form a void in the middle of the cottage's backyard. Instead, he summoned a ... I don't even know how to describe it. It was a creature not of this world," Remus said softly, recalling the day that Harry truly got out of hands for the first time that Remus remembered. "Mr. Emiya and his Servants pulled out every stop and move. They even managed to cast a ward over their entire house. Conceptual weapons were thrown like regular spells-!" he paused. "I can't talk anymore."

Albus nodded, though he got the gist. "So I have nothing to fear?"

Remus looked straight into the eyes of Harry's maternal great-grandfather. "No. There is nothing to fear."

"... I see. That's good. That's good," he said as he rose up. "I'll see you later, Remus?"

"Of course."


	26. Chapter 26

Severus scowled as he stared at the gargoyle blocking his way.

The Gargoyle of Headmaster's Office, or Asshole as Severus thinks of it, was an enemy of all professors of Hogwarts. As one of the few semi-sentient outlet of Hogwart's own sentience, it was a pranking asshole. Sometimes, it would spit out fire or stomp on people's foot just because it could. At other times, it would do nothing and make the professors paranoid.

He hated it.

The gargoyle paused after he gave the password and moved away.

He scowled as he stepped pas-

He lost his balance and fell forward.

The gargoyle's mouth opened, and fire spewed out.

"SON OF A -!"

* * *

Dumbledore raised an eyebrow at singed and beaten Severus.

"My boy, what happened to you?" he asked with a smile hidden behind his majestic beard and mustache.

"Your gargoyle happened."

"Hmm... Is this about the gargoyle again? I keep telling you and the others that it has nothing to do with-"

"That _thing_ tried to burn me alive," Severus hissed.

Albus threw his hands up in a placating gesture.

"I never meant that you were lying, Severus."

The potion master grunted before he sat down. "What did you call me here for?" he asked, getting straight to the point.

There was a pause before Albus sighed.

"I found Harry."

Another pause before Severus glared at him.

"And why should I care about that ... Potter?"

Albus glared right back. "He was raised by no Potter, like both of us feared, Severus. No, he was raised by something _much_ worse."

He raised an eyebrow. "What could be worse than being brought up as a Potter? The bullies that they were was a menace to all of Magical Britain."

"Because he was raised up to be the next Magus Killer."

A pause.

Then Severus laughed. "Albus, this is the first time I've heard a dark joke from you-"

Albus didn't speak, his glare still in place.

Severus too stopped speaking.

"You're not joking."

He shook his head.

"It seems that Harry was raised by the new 'Emiya Alliance' that we've been hearing about," he replied. "And the Magus Killer himself has been recognized as a Wizard Marshall."

Severus felt his eyebrows shoot up. "That's ... impressive."

And it was.

To the wizards and witches of Magical Britain, the title of Wizard Marshall was something hidden in obscurity and mystery. It was a title only two known figures held: Albus Dumbledore the Professor and Nicholas Flamel the Alchemist. Albus received his title by being the man responsible for the defense of the magical communities against two Dark Lords while Nicholas received his for the vast knowledge of magic he kept hidden and safe.

But Albus knew what the title entailed better than most.

The title of Wizard Marshall came with several surprising revelations.

Such as the fact that alien civilizations existed.

Such as the fact that Earth was not safe.

Such as the fact that Wizard Marshalls were all required to independently seek ways to improve all of humankind's survival against any kind of xeno-invasion.

Albus had received the title a decade ago, but he was no closer to achieving the means his title demanded. He had tried to integrate technology and magic only to fail. He had tried to improve relations between all magical races with minimum success. He had tried to pass laws to increase the number of wizards and witches born each year, but that too was laughed off as the plans of a senile old man.

His Order of Phoenix dismissed his concerns about another possible war.

The only thing he had achieved was the strengthening of the Auror Corps, and that required so much bloody work even with backings from several different concerned individuals.

As for the Emiya Alliance, it was the center of a rumor that has been going around lately. The Alliance in question was hiring many people, regardless of race. It was also taking in magical children as wards, going far as to use the authority of an unknown Wizard Marshall to prevent the children from being taken away from them, which Albus now knew to be the authority of the Magus Killer.

He shuddered at what the Magus Killer was planning.

Why would you need all those children?

* * *

It didn't take long for the Emiya Alliance to set up their first school.

The initial plan had been to move the entirety of the Emiya Alliance to a better suited location, but the sudden influx of magical children they had to teach put a stop to that plan. After much discussion, it was decided that it would be better to simply expand the existing cottage.

The cottage was located west of Plymouth, England. The location also consisted mostly of farmlands and orchards. Thus, expansion was easy.

Kiritsugu used the funds available to him to buy the lands around the Emiya Cottage, and helped Tamamo set up a two kilometer radius Bounded Field with standard mundane-repellent and anti-detection wardstones. Of course, it was unlikely that those were going to hold up against a particularly strong wizard, witch, magus, or even a psychic mundane, but it would do.

Once the territory of the Emiya Alliance was set up, Kiritsugu had all available hands get to work on a construction of a school. Berserker and Arturia carried heavy materials like steel and concrete, Tamamo warded _each stone_ (she insisted that it would give the building more protection), Shirou imbued conceptual defenses into walls, and Kiritsugu planned everything. Wizards, witches, and magi hired by the Alliance moved the stones into place.

It was to this sight that Remus jumped out of the only Floo access in the entirety of the Emiya Alliance territory.

"Mr. Lupin!"

Remus stiffened and looked around. Then he found "Lily" heading over to him from the other side of the cottage's living room.

"Y-Yes?"

Remus had been in the service of the Emiya Alliance for two months now. During those two months, he learned many things that he thought were impossible.

One such thing was the authority the tiny blonde girl approaching him held.

While the wolf within a werewolf was quiet and ignorant of the world when they are not out, Remus felt his own wolf immediately go on a deferential mode.

Imagine a wolf with its tail between its legs.

This happened every time that "Lily" was around.

This never happened. Not around Minister of Magic, not around the Malfoys, not even during the odd times that Remus fought against Voldemort and his Death Eaters.

Not even in the presence of Albus Dumbledore did the wolf obey.

Only "Lily."

And that scared him, though he tried to not show it.

"Kiritsugu is calling. Hurry up."

"Yes, ma'am."

Lily glared at him.

He looked away to not meet her eyes.

"Hurry up."

* * *

When Remus entered the cozy office in the Emiya Cottage, which was the building where all of the "core members" of the Emiya Alliance lived in, he found himself staring at someone he had not expected to see.

"Madam Bones?" he muttered as he frowned.

The said woman turned around and spotted him. She nodded to him before turning back to face Kiritsugu.

"Then I'll be happy knowing that you've finished off the bastard. Good day, Marshall Emiya."

Kiritsugu nodded back to her as she headed over to the Floo chimney.

Remus let the head of the DMLE pass by him before he stood before Kiritsugu. "What was that about?" he asked.

The asian Wizard Marshall gave him a look before he closed his eyes and leaned back. "While you were out with the children, I took the entirety of the Emiya Alliance to eliminate the idiot Dark Lord Magnus."

Remus froze, and then his entire body shivered as if a cold, stray wind had blown through him.

He tried to remain calm and act as if nothing happened, but his eyes betrayed him when he glanced at "Lily."

"...And why inform me this?" he asked.

Kiritsugu opened his eyes and stared at Remus. "Because you are one of my employees."

"... That means exactly what?"

Kiritsugu rolled his eyes and began to talk.

* * *

Lily "Saber" Pendragon (or Arturia) really wondered just how much Kiritsugu had changed.

When she first met him, the man was the epitome of assassination and coldness. Detached and cruel. To him, his targets were merely threats to others, not himself or anyone working under him.

Yet here this man was, eliminating the most recent "dark order" because he considered them to be a threat to his adopted sons.

"Before I start, I ask you to hold off on the questions until the end. Understood?" he asked told Remus, someone who was supposedly a friend to one of his children's father. The werewolf nodded, prompting him to continue. "As things are, I have an obligation to uphold," Kiritsugu continued. "My obligation requires stability and peace for myself and the entirety of the world. Lord Magnus and his people were working opposite to that. Whether or not it was their intention to do so, their actions have caused much unrest that I would not have wanted. Before I erased him and his order, I tried to open up talks with Lord Magnus, but he was less than open. In fact, he tried to kill me."

Remus opened his mouth to speak, but stopped himself from doing so.

"So I went and arrested every single one of Lord Magnus's followers and the man himself. Or rather, woman."

The werewolf felt like the world flipped 360 degrees. "What?"

"Yes. Apparently, the person everyone thought was a man was in fact a woman, not that it mattered to me. Once everyone was arrested, I hired a wizard mind reader. All of them possessed incremenating memories and my people also found some evidences. As such, I exercised my right as a Wizard Marshall and had them all executed. Madam Bones of the DMLE found out about this, and was talking to me about some details." A pause. "Now, you may ask me any questions you may have."

Remus was still struggling from the revelations so far that his brain and mouth spat out the latest question he had made.

"A ... wizard marshall?"

Kiritsugu frowned.

"Yes. The title is given to those who have proved themselves to be capable of being protector of magic and mankind, not necessarily in that order."

"And how did you gain this title?"

Kiritsugu chuckled. "Now that is a story that would take the entire day to tell," he replied. "One I won't be telling anyone, unfortunately. I have my reasons."

Remus nodded slowly before more questions began to bubble out. "Was it necessary to kill them all?" he asked.

He nodded. "I've seen and read what happens to people who go to your wizarding prison, Mr. Lupin. I rather think a quick death is merciful compared to that."

He readily agreed with that sentiment.

"...Why did you tell me all this? What does it have to do with my being one of your employee?"

To Remus, this was a question that had been plaguing him for some time. Unlike most of the mundane and the wizarding world, Kiritsugu Emiya demanded that his employee and their family come under his protection in total. This also meant that they were to move to his territory at the earliest time so that they have be under his protection at the earliest time.

Remus guessed several reasons as to why he did such things. He knew that his boss was very paranoid, though he tried to hide it. Being the paranoid man that he was, he may have implemented the idea of housing all of his employees' families to decrease spies. After all, in a world of unrest and uncertainty that the Wizarding Britain was, one could easily be "convinced" to spy for another by using their family as hostage. By housing people, Kiritsugu Emiya eliminated that possibility from ever occurring.

And that's just one possible reason behind all of Kiritsugu Emiya's complex mind.

Remus knew that he was never going to fully understand the man before him nor would he try to. Doing so would just hurt his head.

Kiritsugu stared into his eyes for a moment before he spoke.

"Because this relates to your next mission."

Remus stiffened. His job always became harder whenever the word "mission" was used instead of "job" or "assignment."

His taking care of the wand shopping for the wizardkin wards of the Emiya Alliance was an "assignment." His contacting of other werewolves a month before this was a "mission."

"Yes?" he asked hesitantly.

There was a pause, and Remus could almost hear the cogs inside Mr. Emiya's head churn and clunk.

"While going through the minds of 'Lady' Magnus and her followers," he began. "I came across rather disturbing information. Such things as 'Death Eaters' from the previous civil war who received next to nothing in terms of punishment because of bribery and connections. Your next mission is to go through the entirety of the Welsh, Irish, Scottish, and English wizarding laws and to make a report on every single loophole you can find. You may hire others to help you, but all of them must sign a magical non-disclosure contract."

Remus's eyes widened.

He knew this was going to be big as hell-!

* * *

As Remus left his office ashen and sweaty, Kiritsugu turned to Lily. "Any news for me?"

"The western halls are complete. The rooms for families only need to be furnished."

He nodded. "Good. This will allow us to influence them better."

Though she didn't reply to that, Lily nodded inwardly. She had seen the corruption, bigotry, and bias that the Wizarding Britain was plagued by. What Kiritsugu planned was for the long term.

First, the decision to stay in Cornwall was not a decision made out of financial issues. After all, the "Magus Killer" was swimming in riches even if he didn't show it.

Rather, the decision was made with the current happenings of the Wizarding Britain. When Kiritsugu wanted to move the Emiya Alliance to a more populated cities, he reasoned that being in a city would allow for better communication and recruitment, both magical and mundane. However, the recent split of the four "de jure kingdoms" of Wizarding Britain forced Kiritsugu to stay where he was, the border between Magical Welsh and Magical England. If he did not, then it could be seen as his Alliance taking the side of a single magical community, thereby creating a unnecessary rift between Emiya Alliance and the three other magical communities.

He shared his thoughts and plans regarding this clearly with the Servants, as they will be seen as the "core" members of the Emiya Alliance.

Second, land was cheap and had a lot of open space available for infrastructural development, which would be needed once the Emiya Alliance grows past a certain point.

And third, it was an "unsettled zone." Welsh and English magical communities both laid claimed to the region, even though there was nothing for them to really do here. After all, it was just mundane farmland. Because of the border dispute and the lack of anything truly "magical," no magical families, businesses, or organizations besides the Emiya Alliance was in the region. Oh, the famous Light-sided Weasley Family was to the west of them, but that was fifteen kilometers away or so, easily out of the way.

There were other factors, too, but those were the main reasons.

"How about the Ward Towers?"

Lily pulled out her iPhone and checked for the notes she made on it. It was a popular "smartphone" that came out half a year ago in America, and Kiritsugu had basically forced everyone to rely on it due to its versatility. Lily had to agree. It was both a phone and a computer, which made her life as Kiritsugu's "secretary."

... Well, for now. There was no way she was going to keep being a "secretary." She was a knight, foremost, and she would rise up from this position.

"The Ward Towers are nearing 90% completion. The construction had to stop due to a lack of wardstones available for purchase. We ended up having to commission Tamamo ... again."

Kiritsugu grunted.

Despite being one of the core members of the Emiya Alliance, Tamamo was an oddball.

...

Well, everyone was an oddball, but Tamamo was more so. For big things like wardstones or a feast, she demanded "favors" in return. Last time she used her favor, she had Shirou to herself all day long. They returned at the end of the night with a huge stack of packaged clothes and gifts. Shirou also had a hungry wallet.

And she had seven more such favors.

Lily shuddered. She too had been forced into action by the favor of Tamamo.

They weren't just promises in the Emiya Alliance. To the members of the Emiya Alliance, Favors of Tamamo were closest thing to a binding contract between themselves, except Harry; nothing sticks to the little hellion. It had something to do with the way that Tamamo set up the Bounded Field, where her words and favors reigned supreme in the daily activities of life.

"I see. This is the last wardstone then?"

She nodded.

"Good."

Lily stared at the image of the Ward Tower.

The Ward Tower, designed by Ilya, was a structure that was inspired by the Pylon Towers from a game called Starcraft. Ilya explained to the rest of the Alliance that the Ward Tower would serve as the central hub of power, where independent sources of power would be removed from within its influence, which decreased chances of accidents happening. It would also serve as a protective Bounded Field, and the final wardstone for the tower was exactly that: a supercharged and layered protective Bounded Field generator.

She shivered at the works being done.

Even Merlin, the perverted genius, would have hard time completing projects worth half of the Ward Tower in triple the time.

That's just how powerful and learned Tamamo was. It also helped that she was a literal piece of a deity.

Or destructively creative. Tamamo casually talks about how the entirety of Cornwall would erase itself from the map should the wards engraved into wardstones were incorrectly carved.

* * *

 **Harry's Familiarity with Magical Fields**  
 **(A-F)**

 **Runes: B-**  
 **Transfiguration: D**  
 **Rituals: C-**  
 **Summoning: C**  
 **Enchanting: B+**


	27. Chapter 27

**I'm back, boys, and here's another chapter of "The Obscure Tome"!**

 **I also made a , so for those of you who want to show me appreciation, you can do so by buying me a cup of milk tea or coffee, that's how you can. This is OPTIONAL, but I would still appreciate it. Thanks!**

 **Also, did you guys notice that my writing style has changed in the past two months or so?**

* * *

While the rest of the Emiya Alliance was busy working, Harry was busy pondering.

As much as he wanted to prove everyone that he was capable of finding himself his own Mystic Code ... that was a lie.

He had proclaimed that he would make his own Mystic Code, but he knew next to little about wandlores and related subjects. Oh sure, he could follow instructions to make a Mystic Code that the Obscure Tome showed him, but he didn't know _why_ he had to follow the instructions.

He knew nothing about materials.

He knew nothing about material interactions.

And he certainly knew nothing about material to magical interactions.

Which meant that he was going to have to rely on the Obscure Tome for even more information.

So yes, he was pondering, and was also reading.

While he may know little, he could learn, and in the Boundary Field that he had set up with tenfold time compression, he had plenty of time to learn.

* * *

"Again!"

While it was not a big part of his routine, training with Lily and Berserker was something Shirou enjoyed. He completely acknowledges that he was nowhere in their league when it came to swordsmanship or even general martial prowess, but it was training with them and improving himself that he could see and enjoy.

From across the training ground of what was once the backyard of the Emiya Cottage, Lily charged at Shirou with inhumane sprint. Shirou jumped back with as much force his legs can muster on the spot as he swung his greatest masterpiece yet.

When Lily struck at him with a downward strike, Shirou blocked it with his own sword. The force of the downward strike activated the sword's ability.

The concepts forged into the red katana was thus: Specific, Repel, and Hasten.

Shirou's level at blacksmithing concepts was at a point where he could get multiple concepts to activate at the same time while working with each other.

His current masterpiece was exactly that. The Concept of Specific and Repel worked together to send whatever object that struck at the blade right back at the attacking object itself, sending it back with its own momentum. Hasten activated when the other two concepts are done working, which has been calculated to be within a millisecond, and boosted Shirou's own speed two fold. This speed carried on within the sword and once the attacking object has bounced away, it would move along its current path as if there was nothing blocking it.

A perfect counter weapon.

But against figures of legend like Berserker and Lily, two fold may as well have been ten fold; it didn't matter.

Even when Shirou's swing doubled in speed, Lily recovered easily enough and swatted the red katana away by striking at its flat side.

Shirou carried on with his speed, which was fast fading, and jumped away as Lily struck where he had been standing moments before.

"Not fast enough, Shirou!" Lily berated her student before pouncing on him again.

Berserker waited his turn patiently enough. While Lily focused on Shirou's speed and swordsmanship, which Berserker could not help with due to his current status, he helped Shirou with the boy's strength and endurance.

Namely by swatting the boy's sword away from his grip and then chasing him down for losing his grip on the sword so easily.

Shirou let out an impressive (for a boy of his age) roar as he took on Lily's attack head on.

Berserker, even with Mad Enhancement affecting his judgement, shook his head grimly in disapproval.

The red haired boy swung horizontally, and Lily easily ducked under the attack. With a vicious and sharp kick to the chest, Shirou was sent rolling away.

The boy groaned as he laid still on the ground.

"I suppose that's good enough for today," Lily replied as she hefted her training wooden longsword upon her shoulder with ease despite the fact that the weapon in question was as long as she was and as half as wide as her own torso. "Will you be training tomorrow as well?"

Shirou held up a single hand up and waved negative. "I have projects to work on for dad."

Lily nodded and went along her way. "I'll be expecting a big dinner today, Shirou!"

"Hai, sensei..."

Berserker chortled.

* * *

When Harry reappeared to the rest of the family at dinner, they were surprised to see that he was noticeably taller than he was before.

It was Kiritsugu who broke the question. "Harry. Have you been using time compression field?"

Harry froze.

"...Harry," he frowned in disapproval. "Why would you do that without anyone?"

Harry laughed nervously as he scratched his head. "I was just reading. I didn't do anything."

"Is this about the wand?"

Harry frowned and grunted.

Again, try as he might, as far as the adults were concerned, he was still a young boy. As much as he wanted himself to appear angry, all of the adults only saw a cute little boy.

Kiritsugu not withstanding. No one really knows what he sees in people.

"Harry, come here," Kiritsugu said gently as he tapped the chair next to him.

Harry did so, still with a frown on his face.

"...Son." That single word got Harry's attention sharply. The boy looked up from the ground. "I know that you want to prove yourself. You always have. Why else would you cling so closely to the tome and show me everything you make?"

Harry didn't reply to this.

"And you do well, right?"

He nodded slowly.

"But know that sometimes we need to admit to ourselves that we can't do everything by ourselves. That we need help. Can you do that for me?"

Again, there was no reaction. Kiritsugu opened his mouth to speak again when Harry spoke.

"Okay..."

Kiritsugu made a small smile. "Good. Now, tell me what has you so focused."

Harry immediately burst into talking once he was sure that he was not in trouble. "I didn't like that Oliver guy!"

"Olivander, you mean?" Tamamo asked. "I suppose the man is a little bit creepy."

Shirou turned to her. "What kind of a person is he?"

"Kind of like you, Shirou. He loves his craft."

"Shirou is going to become a creepy old man?!" Harry shouted in distress.

Everyone laughed at that.

* * *

In the end, Harry got help from everyone. Even the other magi and magicians working for the Emiya Alliance were invited to help, though only Remus and Rin really showed up. Everyone else was too busy with their own assignments.

Harry decided that his all purpose Mystic Code was going to be a sword.

"Why a sword?" Lily asked. 'Perhaps the boy is learning to like swords because of his older brother?'

"Well, not really a sword but a dagger," Harry corrected himself as he pulled out a piece of paper, one of many sticking out of the Obscure tome, and laid it out. It was a basic concept drawing for a curved dagger. It lacked any sort of decoration or whatnot.

The next paper Harry pulled out provided more detail. It showed the inside of the dagger blade and the handle.

Within the blade, there was a hollow tube running along the center of the blade. What was going to go inside was still up for debate, according to the paper, since Harry did not know what kind of affinity magical materials would have with him. The handle too had a hollow inside.

Rin looked over the drawings before drawing out a sigh. "There's no stabilizer of any kind. A good design for a kid, but it is not going to hold any kind of powerful spells or magecraft."

Tamamo nodded. "That's what I was going to point out as well," she added as she pointed to the handle. "Perhaps instead of leaving the pommel of the dagger barren, we can add a small stabilizer."

Harry nodded, but he didn't know what could be a stabilizer.

"Um, what could be a stabilizer?" Better to admit that he didn't know rather than not.

"It really depends on what you want to use," Rin replied. "Because my magecraft is Jewelcraft, my stabilizing component would be amethyst. But your a wizard-magus hybrid. First one I've heard of, anyway. So maybe amethyst might work, but it also might not. You wizards are better connected with components from living things."

Ilya stared for a bit before she turned to Berserker. "Berserker, let's go hunt down a Dragon Pearl!" she exclaimed as she started to climb up his arm.

Kiritsugu pulled her off immediately.

"What?"

Ilya blinked and stared up to her father. "Uh, you know. Dragon pearl. Those things that chinese dragons have inside them?"

"Ilya, those are fictional," Tamamo said.

"Oh," she pouted. "It was going to be perfect for Harry's mc."

"Mc?"

"Mystic Code."

And the discussion went on.

* * *

Eventually, it was decided upon by Kiritsugu that Shirou would provide the blade of this new mystic code for their youngest.

Shirou poured his heart and soul into his latest masterpiece, and produced a dagger blade that held these concepts: Command, Amplify, and Return, the three toughest concepts for Shirou to imbue.

Tamamo provided the stabilizer that Harry could use that she did get idea from Ilya: crystallized heart of a Kirin. It was something she had found in her first life as a courtier among the Japanese Imperial courts in its medieval ages. She had stashed it away with the intent to present it to the emperor, but she was ousted from the court before she could, and with her death after her banishment, it had been hidden away from the world.

Everyone who first looked at it first thought it was just a rather exquisite ruby, but nothing more.

Rin provided the Nord Runes that were carved into the Elm tree handle.

And finally, Ilya gave it her all in providing the sword with the best and practical aesthetics.

Where once only a yellow-glowing-barely-out-of-furnace-blade sat, a purple Damascus Steel bladed Mughal Dagger drew in everyone.

Everyone, including Remus and Harry, looked upon the Mystic Code Harry's Wand (temporary name) with pride. It was the work of everyone involved, even Remus, who provided some of the mana necessary in its assembly stage.

"Well, it's done," Tamamo said as she placed the final adjustment to dagger by sheathing it in enchanted leather scabbard. "Congratulations, Harry."

The boy gingerly took the dagger in its scabbard and grinned.

"And with this, I officially dub you a magus of the Emiya Alliance!" Vlad declared. The others around them smiled and grinned. "We need booze for this celebration!"

Berserker smacked him from behind.

* * *

Soon, it was time for Harry to board the Hogwarts Express.

For the sake of normalcy, only Kiritsugu and Tamamo accompanied Harry and Shirou to the magical 9 3/4 Platform.

They all certainly thought that the "walking through the wall" was a funny bit.

When they came through, they each had a thought that popped into their mind.

For Kiritsugu, it was about the lack of defense the platform had as a public place. The wards were weak, there was little to no security, and there was definitely a lack of modernization in regards to how the train seemed to operate.

Because really, steam engine? Even if the whole _train_ was covered in Anti-Mundane Charms, the smoke was definitely not going to be.

For Shirou, it was about the lack of swords. He couldn't help it. The moment he entered the most magical train platform that the moonlit world had to offer, he had expected some of the adults to have some form of bladed mystic code. Alas, he saw none; he only saw wands. But this also meant that -even if he hadn't really thought about it before- the British wizards and witches were most likely to have similar methodology and dueling styles.

He wondered if he could improve his own style so that fighting against the wizards and witches will be easier.

... But then again, Hogwarts was a school for magic, not combat. Improvement to his fighting will have to come later.

For Tamamo, she wondered if the wizards and witches had regressed. Much of the wards seemed to be running on fumes, and the few spots that she did see the repairs for were ... well, patchwork. Someone needed to come here and seriously work on the

And lastly, for Harry, he was just excited like most of the children in the platform.

He was going to a brand new school! There was going to be magic, professors, artifacts, and adventure! He would learn from the school and from the tome!

The tome obviously didn't like that. Harry didn't like it too, but his father had been adamant about not taking the tome to school. He was, however, allowed to copy pages for his experiments so that he could still perform them in Hogwarts, though what he could copy was also limited.

Harry just hoped that whatever he was going to learn in Hogwarts would offset whatever he could've learned with the tome.

* * *

Kiritsugu looked around. The platform for the Hogwarts Express was ... lively. There were children and their parents here.

He had already noted all of the possible exits, entrances, enemies, and allies.

And now, he was just waiting for Harry and Shirou to enter the train.

"Lord Emiya."

Kiritsugu glanced to his right where a man had approached him. There was a moment of confusion before he recognized the man before him.

This man was Albus Dumbledore.

Why was the Headmaster of Hogwarts here?

* * *

Earlier that morning, Albus couldn't help himself and broke tradition.

Let the purebloods mourn for the broken tradition; he had a great-grandson to welcome!

For the first time since its inception, the Headmaster of Hogwarts went to greet one of the parents of the First Year students. Normally, such a visit was given to the Transfiguration Professor or the Deputy Headmaster because ... well, tradition. Hogwarts lacked a designated "public relations" office. Instead, such jobs, and almost every single other jobs that are not listed as part of the Hogwarts Charter, was given to the Deputy Headmaster while the Headmaster dealt with anything political.

Of course, such unloading of responsibilities was not written anywhere in the Hogwarts Charter.

Again, this was tradition.

And it has been working well for Hogwarts since its inception -once more-, so why change?

Now, Albus knew that some of the more progressive members of the wizarding society wanted there to be such offices in Hogwarts, but Albus knew better.

Aside from this granting Hogwarts a need to depend on this new office (which includes interview, fancy inauguration, annual payment, peer review, laying off of stupid pureblood who got too cocky and said things he shouldn't have, and the repeat of the cycle), Albus liked to follow the wise and old saying.

Don't fix what isn't broken.

To that end, Albus had delegated the job to visiting the households of the first years, should their parents require it.

The Emiya Alliance had needed no such visitations, and Minerva certainly did not mind for she was swamped with work already. Oh, she was a little bit miffed that she would have to wait a bit more to see James and Lily's son, but she could wait.

She waited eleven bloody years, what's another few weeks?

But Albus couldn't help it. He left his office, put on his best notice-me-not charm, and flooed to the 9 3/4 Platform.

When he came tumbling out of the floo, he did a small cartwheel with himself, flashing the entire world his unmentionables -not that anyone noticed with his charm-, and landed on his feet.

He dusted himself once before he looked around.

While he had not used the platform when he was a first year at Hogwarts -for the construction of the platform happened much later in his life-, he had been there in its grand opening.

He had to say, there was quite the improvement.

For one, there were no shit stains on the floor. In the old days, people still came in from the outside when horses still pulled the carts.

Sufficed to say, the horses left droppings which people/carts/etc stepped on, they left marks which other people stepped on, and so on.

The fact that it smelled not of shit but of relatively fresh air was ... great.

He looked around once more after enjoying the scene a bit. He still had to find Harry and his guardians.

Harry's guardians, the Emiya Alliance.

That was a shock for him. Sure, he had heard that some new magical powerful magical organization had risen up, but he had been far too busy with international affairs to focus on any internal things.

Ironically, the organization, which he now knew as the Emiya Alliance, had declared independence from Witengamot _and_ the Mage's Association.

The same organization had Harry in their custody.

Albus knew better than to fight it, though, not after hearing about how happy Harry was with them.

Ah, he found them.

"Lord Emiya."

The man turned slightly to face him. There was a moment of ignorance before realization dawned on the man.

"Headmaster Dumbledore," he greeted curtly.

The family turned to him.

The first thing he saw was how excited Harry was. He too was happy with that.

The next thing he saw was that there was a non-human with them. The non-human was a woman with light red hair, a pair of orange fox ears, and a orange tail. How curious.

And the final thing he saw in his first impression here was through his Mage Sight.

Harry and the woman were beacons of power.

Through his Mage Sight, Albus saw most of the people as how much magic they contained within them, which was to say not much. It would be like a white outline of the person with a background. The outline was obviously a magical being, and he would see an orb of magic within them. An average wizard and witch would have a magical orb, or the magical core, that was equivalent to an average adult's two fists.

In the woman, he saw power that broke all conventional theories and laws of magic. The very magic in the air filtered through her, giving her access to near infinite quantity of magic. If that was not enough, the woman was producing the same amount of magic as he was. Lastly, there was a web of tiny cores all throughout her body and surrounding her core. Combined, these three facts gave her a fiery aura of mana that whirled around her silently, slowly, but surely. It was like seeing a hurricane in extremely slow motion. Almost still, but moving with power to tell the viewer that there was _power_.

Then there was the fact that she seemed to be in complete control of her magic. Each little gesture she made with her fingers made magic dance. It was a control that he had not even heard of before. With but a small flick -which he noticed when he alerted himself to the family-, there were nine glyph hovering around her. It was only thanks to his Mage Sight that he could even see these glyph.

How wary and marvelous.

Voledmort was dangerous because of his control. He was the only one capable of controling fiendfyre as far as Albus knew.

Lord Magnus was dangerous because of his witty politics. He swayed much of the Witengamot seat holders.

This woman?

She would smash the finest magical army with but a flicker of her wrist. She could smash the very platform they were on in this exact split second.

This woman stood in a league beyond him, and he would be powerless to stop her if she chose to merely _act_.

But she didn't.

Albus marveled at the idea of such individuals controlled by one person, because as he saw it, she was deferring to Lord Emiya and the red haired youth -as far as her body language went, that is.

And Harry.

Harry was powerful, he could see. He saw Harry's magical core, which was at least a dozen times bigger than a usual wizard or witch's core. In fact, he also had multiple tiny cores spread throughout his body.

They thrummed with power in a way that resembled close to the woman's power.

But unlike the woman, his power was compressed and tightly knit together. If the woman was Bombarda Maxima a moment before it was fired, then Harry was the Fidelius Charm. Merely looking at the network of tiny cores and how they interacted with the magical core made his eyes dizzy. So much complex workings of magic were happening at once within the boy. Were any of them harmful?

Speaking of network of tiny cores, it seemed that the entire Emiya family had such cores, and his knowledge on them told him that the networks in question were Magic Circuits present in magus individuals.

 _Thanks to occlumency, all of these thoughts took him only three seconds in real time to process and file away._

"So these two children will be attending Hogwarts?" he asked Lord Emiya.

The Japanese man nodded. "This is Harry Potter, whom you've met," he introduced.

"Hey, old man," Harry grinned cheekily.

"Behave, Harry," Lord Emiya chatised before turning to the red haired youth. "And this is my other son, Shirou Emiya."

"A pleasure to meet you, headmaster," Shirou greeted with a small bow.

Albus raised his eyebrow a little. "You are familiar with the pureblood tradition?" he asked.

"Ah, no?" Shirou replied. "It's just how the Japanese greet others."

"Hmm, and this is the Japanse muggle culture?" he asked, interested in this minor clash of cultures.

Shirou nodded.

Albus smiled. "Thank you for teaching me, Mr. Emiya. It is always a pleasure to learn."

Not knowing what the say, Shirou didn't reply but nodded.

"And you are...?" Albus turned to the last member of the family here.

She smiled. "My name is Tamamo-no-Mae, Headmaster Dumbledore. I'm Shirou's fiance," she said with a bow of her own. "I do hope you'll take good care of him, lest I feel inclined to visit the school."

Cold sweat broke out all over his body the moment she said that.

"Of course. Hogwarts is the finest educational institution for upcoming wizards and witches."

"But not magi?" she asked.

Albus faltered a little here. "There have been attempts to integrate magus education," Albus began. "But Mage's Association has been rather adamant that the wizards and witches leave them alone."

"You mean they told you to butt out or suffer war," she replied. "How blunt of them..."

It seemed she and he could agree on things easily enough.

"Ah, I can visit the school, yes?" she asked suddenly.

He nodded without showing any sign of discomfort, though he was slightly reluctant to agree. "You will need to alert us early to visit unless it is a case of emergency."

Tamamo nodded with a smile. "It's good to know that I can visit."

For some reason, Shirou seemed less than excited at the idea. Did the boy not like his fiance?

"Ah, but I suppose I shouldn't keep you tied up when the express will be leaving in ten minutes, don't you think?" he asked the family. "I'll see you to at Hogwarts." He gave a respectful nod to Tamamo and Lord Emiya before leaving the premise.

* * *

Kiritsugu, on the other hand, was confused.

After all, important people like Albus Dumbledore do not simply show up to greet a single family. Obviously, it was to greet him and the Emiya Alliance as a show of ... what?

There was no exchange of subtle jabs, promises, or anything of the like. Rather, the headmaster seemed much included to act in his role as the headmaster than any of his other positions when all of his past records have always shown to be otherwise _outside_ of Hogwarts.

Perhaps he should set up an appointment with the headmaster as the head of the Emiya Alliance to see what this was about?


	28. Chapter 28

**Been long time since I updated this.**

 **But hey, it came out at least :D**

* * *

Shirou and Harry boarded the train with their luggage and found themselves an empty compartment. They entered the compartment and tossed the luggage overhead to the hangers.

Once they settled down unto the leathery seats, they let out relieved sighs.

"No one walked up to us, thankfully," Shirou replied.

Harry nodded. He knew that he was famous in Great Britain because of something that happened in his infancy, but he was not one for fame. He didn't mind being popular, but fame? That was a whole can of worms that Harry didn't think he'd take well; celebrities worldwide tended to have this ups and downs to their life because of fame as far as the TV could tell him. He didn't want that. "So are we gonna lock the compartment?" he asked his older brother.

Shirou stared at the boy for a second before staring at the compartment door. "... No. I don't know about the train, but there might be people who need a place to sit and change. We won't deprive them of that."

Harry scoffed. "You're too nice, onii-san."

"And you are too indifferent at times like this," the red-haired Emiya replied easily. "Remember the time one of your classmates broke their wrist?"

"He was a stranger! Of course, I wouldn't care!"

"Yeah. That. I think you're too indifferent."

"Muuu!"

* * *

It was about an hour later that someone else knocked on the compartment's window.

Shirou opened his eyes and looked.

It was a girl about Harry's age -he presumed- with bushy hair.

He reached out and opened the door easily. "Yes?"

"Have you see a toad?"

Harry shook his head as did Shirou. "Are toads normal in Hogwarts?" Harry asked. "I haven't read much about Hogwarts yet."

Hermione stared at Harry for a while before she made an excited grin. "I've read as much as I could about Hogwarts and the books they assigned us! It was so interesting, but there were parts that I couldn't understand and I tried to find references-"

Harry scoffed. "Those books were so easy. How could you not understand them?"

She looked shocked. "B-But it was so new to me!" There was a pause before there was a flash of realization in her eyes. "Oh. You grew up with a magical parents, didn't you?"

Harry thought about his parents. Or rather, just one: Kiritsugu. His dad was ... odd. At least that's how Harry came to see his father. His father was the best father! ... he was definitely not normal. No one normal goes by the name of Magus Killer. Did he learn from his dad much about magic? To start his education, yes, but not much after that. It was mostly the tome that he learned from.

"My dad didn't teach me a lot of magic. It was mostly Shirou here that learned from him."

"Your dad is allowed to teach you?!" Hermione looked shocked. "The brochure for Hogwarts said that you can't use wands at home! Does your parents have special permission?"

Shirou pondered on her words. "Well, we came from Japan, and we have a different ministry-"

"There are other magicals in other nations too?!" she awed.

Harry frowned. "Why wouldn't there be?" he asked curtly.

There was a pause before Hermione's face reddened. "B-B-Because-"

Shirou gently knocked Harry upside on the head. "Be polite, Harry."

Harry pouted. "She's interrupting my time with my tome."

"Your tome isn't even here."

"A copy of it is."

"You know you're not supposed to talk about it."

Harry grunted before shifting away from the compartment door and ignoring Hermione.

Hermione gave Harry an odd look. "What are you reading?"

Harry ignored her.

Shirou gave his little brother a glare.

Shirou knew that he was no perfect nor was a he perfect brother. He had his own brand of stubbornness and stupidity that drove the family mad. Like how everyone considered his quest for forging a thousand three-layered conceptual blades insane.

Harry's own brand of stubbornness manifested with slight misanthropy. He never had the best of times in the schools, mundane or magical, due to how advance he would think. Bullies in particular saw this as "showing off" and Harry and Shirou had to deal with a lot of them.

Hermione didn't seem like that. She seemed more energetic than scathing or dismissive. From what Harry could tell, the way she talked was kind of like Rin onee-chan when she came across something surprising.

And if she was anything like Rin onee-chan, she was not going to let go of Harry without ascertaining what he was reading. Let it not be said that bookworms aren't greedy; by the associative definition as knowledge equaling power, bookworms are the most megalomaniac individuals on Earth.

"... A theory on blood magic."

Of course, this wasn't true. What Harry was reading at the moment was "John Albertson's Observations upon the Reaction between Elemental Magics and Metals." But saying "theory on blood magic" tended to drive people away, and Harry wanted to be left alone.

Shirou frowned at Harry but didn't say anything.

"Oh," Hermione muttered. Unfortunately, as a muggleborn -or mundaneborn as the Emiyas were calling the first generation wizards and magi- Hermione had little to no compunctions about dark or light. After all, she had yet to be educated by biased magi and wizards.

So to Harry, the next question was a shocker.

"What kind of magic is it? Do you use a wand for it? What can you do with it? Is it healing magic?"

Okay, it was a series of questions, but a shocker nonetheless.

"...You are okay with blood magic?" he asked her.

Blood magic was basically the basis for both his older brother's main magecraft. And having had such bias against them for so long, even in Japan, it had caused both of them to be surprised and pleasantly too.

Here was someone they could teach about the truth of the blood magic without anything else interfering beforehand like parents and biases.

"Well, is it okay to use it? I mean, I don't want to get caught using it if it's a 'bad' magic..." she replied nervously.

Shirou scoffed. "Ms. Granger, magic doesn't really have much 'bad' or 'good' in them outside of very few maliciously designed works. Take a spell that helps to cool something," he said and she nodded. "If you are sweaty and hot from running, a cooling charm would be helpful yes?"

She nodded.

"Is it evil?"

"No."

Harry intervened. "But what if I used that cooling charm ... to cool your blood temperature?"

Hermione looked at Harry and paled. "W-Why would you do such a thing?"

"Because I wanted to harm someone? Why else would you do that?"

"But that's evi-!"

She stopped.

"It's ... up to us to decide how magic is used?" she asked after a long pause.

Shirou smiled. "Precisely."

"But what does this have to do with blood magic?"

"Blood magic is called that because in essence just as your blood differs minutely from mine, blood magic's product differs from each individual," Shirou replied here. "My blood magic specializes in forging with a side-specialization in analysis and deconstruction. But because the word blood is held within its title, people are wary of it."

Hermione looked confused. "But that doesn't seem bad..." she muttered.

"Precisely," Harry grinned. "Remember that magic is determined not by what others say but how you use it."

* * *

Hermione left the train compartment to continue her search of Neville's toad, but she had a lot on her mind.

As a eleven year old, one would expect a girl of her age to be active.

And she was ... just not physically. Her activeness was within her mind. She was already trying to piece together what they had said and what some of the books she read all said.

She remembered that in the first book she read, _Dark Forces: a Guide to Self-Defense_ , the author spoke of many magic as dark.

The book had to be right, though, right? After all, it was written by an adult and certified by the headmaster to allow its usage in Hogwarts. Shirou and Harry were just the odd ones out.

She nodded, affirming herself to her logic before truly beginning her search for the toad.

...

Where is that damned toad? She'd been searching for an hour already!

* * *

"First Years over here!"

Harry and Shirou looked up as they left the train and found a half-giant standing by train station with a Victorian lamp in his right hand.

Harry bid Shirou goodbye and trotted along.

Shirou scoffed at Harry's casualness, because it wasn't a lie. He knew that Harry didn't care much about the world around him right now because the youngest Emiya had just finished the copy of the Obscure Tome. And if he finishes something, he's either busy moving onto another chapter of the Obscure Tome or trying to make whatever he read work.

Shirou knew that within Harry's mind right now, the boy was going over plans after plans of future endeavors to take.

He wouldn't be surprised if Harry wasn't interested in anything and tell him so after whatever route they were taking. If anything, Harry was more likely to attempt a go at whatever he just learned...

And considering the title of the article he read, it would involved practical magic against his steel.

* * *

Hagrid was surprised.

The Boy-Who-Lived and his adopted older brother, the transfer student, were an odd pair. The elder seemed interested for the sake of being interested and Harry was spacing out. Often in the short walk between the train station and the rowboats, Hagrid saw the elder steer Harry.

"Say," Hagrid spoke up to get the attention of the elder "Emiya."

Emiya.

That was the weird thing too. Harry didn't refer to himself as a Potter, which was a venerable name in the wizarding world. Instead, he referred to himself as Emiya. Who were these Emiya's anyway? It certainly didn't sound like a English name. Were they foreigners?

Hagrid didn't know much about the foreign wizarding worlds, so he kept quiet. At least, he knew that Harry spacing out was not a good sign. Children did not space out like that.

He would be proven wrong the next year.

* * *

Shirou thought that rowboating to Hogwarts across the Black Lake was a beautiful scenery. The many tiny dots of light coming from Hogwarts and the starry black sky above made the entire world seem ... magical.

Harry, as predicted by Shirou, did not care.

* * *

"First years and transfers! Gather around."

Everyone from the group looked to a thin robed professor with a pointy witch's hat. They gathered in front of her as she instructed.

"We will soon be entering the Great Hall and you will be Sorted into your new houses. I expect all of you to be quiet until you have been sorted. Is that clear?"

"Yes, professor."

"Good," she said with a nod. As she looked over the group once over, a small number of some ninety students. She wanted to frown, but kept her blank face. Ninety student was a half-century low for first year admission. Normally, there would be about hundred fifty to hundred seventy-seven. This showed just how hard the Grindelwald and Voldemort had struck Europe and Great Britain's magical communities. "Then follow me to the Great Hall."

She led them up the small flight of stairs and towards the Great Hall. Once she stood in front of the doors, she tapped it twice with her wand.

The doors swung open slowly, and the light from within momentarily blinded the first years and transfers.

And the Great Hall in its majesty was revealed to them.

She glanced behind to see their reaction, and smiled minutely before schooling her features again. "Come along."

They silently made their way in and stood halfway into the hall. Professor McGonagall stopped them and walked up to the stool that stood at the front of the hall, a dozen meters in front of where all of the professors and other staff were sitting. On the stool was an old hat.

"Good evening," she greeted the Sorting Hat.

It grunted at her. "Let's get this over with," it replied quietly.

She pulled out the scroll that held the names of the newcomers. "Now," she spoke loudly for all to hear. "When I call your name, walk up to the stool and sit on it. I will then place the Sorting Hat on your head, and you will be sorted." A pause. "... Allenway, Xavier."

* * *

Harry stared intently at the ceiling above him.

His eyes saw it as the only interesting thing in this entire hall to drag his attention away from the newest sets of knowledge he had learned.

As he stared at the ceiling, his mind cranked out theories, known spells, known magecrafts, and connected them at near-blinding pace for a regular person. If one were to translate Harry's brain activity to word, it would look something like this:

 _:/nightskyonceiling/theory1;illuision/spell;shinyangsubyun/denied;buddhistchinese/theory2;spatialjump/spell;yilbibimshun/denied;tengrimanchu/theory3;decorativemagecraft/spell;avabiluis/denied;romanianhereticalmagecraft/thoery4_...

"It's not a real ceiling," someone said from behind him. "It's just bewitched to look like the night sky. I read about it in _Hogwarts: A History_."

Harry turned to her. "Did the book have the spell used to do it?"

Hermione blinked. "Uh, no. But I bet it's in the library."

Harry's eyes took a hungry glint before he looked forward again.

Yes, a library in an institution as old as Hogwarts was bound to have knowledge he didn't have... Perhaps somethings that even the Obscure Tome doesn't have.

 _.../denied;germanicpaganritual/theory11..._

His eye twitched.

"You're overdoing it, Harry."

Harry glanced at his older brother from the corner of his eyes. "Did you notice?"

"It's hard to not notice when your right eye changes color."

Harry blinked in question. "My eye?" he asked.

"Must be your newest upgrade from the tome," Shirou replied. "... I still don't like the fact that the tome is modifying your body."

Harry stuck his tongue out. "You're jealous that I get to do some thing you do with your eyes," he giggled.

Shirou scoffed. "As if, Harry," he replied.

"...Emiya, Harry Potter!"

Everyone attention turned towards the newcomers.

Harry grinned and trotted off to the stool. He saw the Sorting Hat, and gave it a little bow.

Fun fact: as much as the Obscure Tome was a tome of knowledge, it was also a tome of knowledge on historical, cultural, and events as any history book out there. Just with a lot more unnecessary and _obscure_ details to them.

This included on how one should conduct themselves to insanely old sentient beings of any origin.

Be respectful.

"Greetings, Sorting Hat."

"Huh, that's a first," the Sorting Hat replied out loud. "Greetings, Harry Potter Emiya. It seems that you've caused some ruckus with that new name of yours," it said as it grinned.

Harry grinned right back. "It's my family's name, and I won't trade anything for it."

The hat scoffed. "Well, hurry up and put me on, boy. There's a line behind you."

Harry blinked, looked behind him, and said, "Oops."

"Yes, Mister .. Emiya," the professor holding the scroll said exasperatedly. "Let's get you sorted." She lifted the Sorting Hat from the stool, and Harry sat on the stool. Once he seemed ready, she put the Sorting Hat on his head.

And the first thing the Sorting Hat told Harry was this.

"Bloody Merlin's Entertaining Hell smeared with a shit-stained pogo stick!"

* * *

From the Sorting Hat's perspective, minds were simple things. It may be due to how much of his analyzing power was focused on it as the Founders had dictated, but over the years, it had done its own share of tweaking the spell involved in the penetration of the mind.

Oh, his magic penetrated through this youngster's mind easily enough, but instead of encountering the unorganized mind of a youngster, he found himself in a library.

And it wasn't the kind of library that Hogwarts had.

It looked up.

It was a spiraling pillar that had its inside carved out and filled to the brim with books along its walls. A giant spiraling pillar that could easily fit in a hundred people.

 _Clunk_

The floor moved _up_.

The entire floor moved _up_.

This was where the Sorting Hat exclaimed rather profusely in surprise.

"You okay?"

It turned around, and found itself staring at the mental image of Harry, or what Harry thought of himself as.

He looked exactly as he did in the real world except for one difference: he held a thick tome under his right arm.

"I... Yes, I think," the Sorting Hat replied as the shelves of books and papers continued to move down and they up. "This is the first time I've seen such a clear mindscape."

Harry tilted his head to the side a bit before nodding. "The Obscure Tome helped me."

"Well, that would be outside of what my job is," it replied.

"You're trying to sort me, right?" Harry asked.

It nodded. "Yes, but with all of this movement and the restriction your mind has made on me.."

"What restriction?"

It waved its arms.

"I'm a hat, Mr. Emiya. I don't have arms. There's also the fact that I can't see anything that will let me sort you properly. Like memories."

The boy shrugged. "This mindscape is my soul. Sort me that way."

It scoffed. "I do as I was made, Mr. Emiya, not your directions," he said as he picked up a random book. The book refused to open.

"I'll maybe tell you about finding a body of your own if you Sort me now."

It stared at Harry. "Why would you say that?"

Harry smiled. "A door opened is a door with two avenues of travel."

It waved Harry off after a while. "It's impossible, anyway. A young man like you can't possibly have the kn-"

The book opened for the Sorting Hat, and saw within it knowledge. Old knowledge. Deep understanding of magic and its intricacies. It wasn't up to Dumbledore or any of the professors around in Hogwarts, but the understanding of magic was well entrenched within the boy's mind.

"I really don't want to hold up the line. And I definitely want to see where my brother goes."

"Fine. Ravenclaw! Now tell me how to accomplish my truest desire-"

"Bye bye, Mr. Sorting Hat! We'll talk later!"

Sorting Hat felt itself be ejected from Harry's mind.

* * *

Its experience with the elder Emiya was a whole different extreme.

It found itself standing as a human would -similar to how it had done so in Harry's mind- but it felt ... sluggish. It looked around and found a desolate world of metal and dust.

"I ... didn't expect you to be able to see this."

It whirled around and found Mr. Emiya standing on top of a hill of swords.

"Please leave. You can access my memories somewhere else."

Sorting Hat felt itself being ejected once more.

* * *

In the end, Kiritsugu did make an appointment with the Headmaster of Hogwarts. But the reasons behind meeting was two fold.

One, as the new Second Owner of the Forbidden Forest, he would have to set up a proper pact with the neighboring castle so that students and teachers would not poach off of his land.

Second, it was proper for a parent to want to know about his children's school, right?

To that end, three days after he saw Harry off on the 9 3/4 platform, Kiritsugu found himself once again greeting his two adopted children at the Hogwarts Castle's front entrance.

"Hi dad!" Harry greeted him enthusiastically, but after a few moments, his nose dove back into the copied pages of the Obscure Tome he had brought with him.

Shirou smiled and ran his hand over his younger brother's hair, though this elicited no reaction from the bookworm. "Welcome to Hogwarts, dad," he said.

Kiritsugu nodded. "How was the entrance ceremony for you two?" he asked them.

Harry giggled. "The hat and I talked a lot. He wanted a body."

"...The hat?"

* * *

"I'm telling you Albus, he can make me a body if he really wants to! Just let me try to convince him more!" the Sorting Hat vehemently demanded from where he sat in the headmaster's office.

Albus, who was trying to do the little paperwork he gets as the headmaster, muted the hat with a swish of his wand.

"Ha, nice try, senile bastard! Now let me talk to the boy!"

The headmaster frowned. He forgot that the hat, as part of the alert system within defense matrix of Hogwarts, could not be silenced.

Damn!

* * *

"Uh huh! It's a hat that sorts us. I got sorted into Ravenclaw," Harry replied. "There are four houses! Like Ravenclaw, Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, and Slytherin!"

"And you, Shirou?" Kiritsugu asked as he looked at the red haired teen.

"The hat considered me for Gryffindor."

"I see. I heard that Gryffindor sought out the courageous and brave. I suppose this is a clear indication of what you are, right Shriou?"

The teen nodded. "But it put me into Hufflepuff, the House of the Loyals."

Kiritsugu raised an eyebrow. He thought about the implication a bit before he nodded.

It was not too big of a surprise or an issue. One of Shirou's virtue was his outstanding loyalty to his dream: to become a champion of justice. Of course, this was something Kiritsugu was trying to steer towards the right direction so that Shirou would not end up as EMIYA, but it was still a work in progress.

Despite the young man's outward normalcy, the Incarnation of Steel was not normal in mind or body.

...

Kiritsugu scoffed. What was he thinking. The House of Emiya and the Emiya Alliance was anything but normal.

"Something on your mind, dad?" Shirou asked.

He shook his head. "No. Just thinking about trivial matters. It's nothing to worry over," he replied. "Lead me to the headmaster's office."

* * *

It was exactly when Kiritsugu crossed over the doorway of Hogwarts' main entrance that Headmaster was alerted by the Sorting Hat.

"Oi, the magus marshall is here."

Albus stared at the Sorting Hat for a brief moment before he began to wave his wand in a flurry. The paperwork, thrown about clothes, artifacts, and other items discarded all around the room flew away to neat stacks and to their rightful places. In mere moments, the office was clean.

"There. Where is he?"

"On the first floor, still. Second floor now."

"... What kind of a man is he?"

The Sorting Hat gave Albus a raised eyebrow. "I never met the man, Albus. Have you truly gone senile?"

"But there must have been something in the minds of the Emiya children, no?" he asked the hat. "Something you can tell me about the Magus Killer that you can tell me without going against your rules."

The Sorting Hat was silent for a while.

The silence fell to a pregnant pause after the Sorting Hat drew in a quick breath. Then it spoke. "Changed, he is. He is no longer the cold killer known as Magus Killer, but he will not hesitate to use force where necessary. Cunning. Powerful. Experienced. Should he decide to oppose you, you will meet your true match."

Dumbledore nodded. "Thank you."

The Sorting Hat scoffed. "Then let me talk to the kid."

* * *

"What kind of a man is your headmaster?" he asked Shirou.

Both of them knew that Shirou was capable of using his Structural Analysis to go through an object's history, which included many of the personal objects of the headmaster, including the man's wand.

Shirou walked without seeing for a few moments, replaying some of the things he had seen through his spells.

"Kind of like you, but softer? Wary, tired, and definitely ready for retirement."

Kiritsugu raised an eyebrow.

"Long-term planner, skilled in Transfiguration and Alchemy, but outside of what his magic can provide, he has average stamina of a man decades younger than him. Not a warrior, but a general."

He nodded at the comparison. He had gathered as much before coming here.

"I believe he is wary of us."

He nodded again.

"Also loves sour candies."

* * *

Albus felt the magic of his office kick in, warming his eyes towards the office door like how a man's eyes would drift towards a woman's lovely bosom. It was a rather ingenious way of alerting him to a presence outside of the door. No lightshow or alerts. Just a smooth guidance of the eyes by the castle's magic.

It was also how he unnerved a lot of the students, staffs, and parents who came into his office; he always looked like he always knew if someone was entering the room.

The feeling was also prickly, though, which told him that there were multiple people behind the door.

He cast a quick Tempus.

It was the exact appointment time.

"Come in," he called them in.

It was time to meet the Third Wizard Marshall.

* * *

 **This chapter was more of a transition from the rest of the Emiya to Harry. Sure, the story did have chapters where Harry's thoughts and actions have been central to the chapters, but it didn't go in depth exactly what he had learned beyond some mystic codes and weird stories.**


	29. Chapter 29

Albus Dumbledore stared into the eyes of the Third Wizard Marshall, and found himself wary.

It was uncomfortable being wary.

Those eyes were harder than steel and colder than ice. They were the eyes of a veteran soldier who had fought for a lifetime.

Like himself. Like Voldemort. Like Grindelwald.

Albus knew intellectually that this man received his titles through his alliance's power, not his personal strength, but at the same time, he really wondered if his sources had been right about this man's strength. Oh, Albus felt the man's strength through the numerous wards inspecting the man for any danger...

...And they were blaring.

Specifically, the wards were blaring at whatever was inside his pockets.

Not even Ridd- Voldemort set off this many alarms at once.

* * *

Kiritsugu felt his body tense.

It was an instinctual muscle memory he had gained after fighting both Servants and magi for so long.

This Albus Dumbledore was dangerous. Extremely so.

Maybe even the greatest possible threat he had seen bar the dead apostles...

His body had calculated all of this from the man's eyes, aura, and ambient magical processes around him. The way the world about him tensed when the headmaster's eyes fell on him...

 _He had just walked into a fortress_.

The headmaster's gaze was less of a lion's hungry gaze and more of a tense panther's gaze before the pounce. Whether it is to run or fight remained to be seen.

There was a pause as he stared back into the headmaster's eyes.

The headmaster was the first to break the pause with a smile.

"Mir. Emiya," he said as he stood up. "Welcome to Hogwarts."

Kiritsugu nodded, and sat in the gestured chair before the headmaster's desk.

"Thank you, Headmaster Dumbledore," he replied with ease granted to him by his years of unnerving work. "However, I'd like to set aside any pleasantries; I'm here for business only."

Dumbledore didn't frown nor did anything about him overtly change to give Kiritsugu any insight into what the man might be thinking. In fact, this man's demeanor was similar to his. Cautious and wary.

"Of course. I do not want to hold the Third Marshall's time too much," Dumbledore replied with a chuckle before he too put on his serious face. "How may I help you?"

"... First off, I would like to know where you stand, Headmaster."

"Hmm? What exactly do you mean?"

"You've shown yourself to be a defender of the Hogwarts. I've read your actions against the Scottish Ministry of Magic, Headmaster. I'd like to applaud you on it."

"Thank you, but it was my job."

"Just as it is your job to the _British_ magical community as its Chief Warlock."

The Headmaster's eyes narrowed slightly, though now there existed twinkles in them that Kiritsugu hadn't noticed before.

"Oh?"

"While the nobles and influential figures of the wizarding and witchery communities may not have noticed, you have kept the _magical position_ of the Chief Warlock of the _British_ wizarding and witchery community, Headmaster. Yes, I did notice that despite the fact that the British Witengamot no longer exists, the position of the British Chief Warlock does."

"Blunt, aren't you?"

"I'm the Magus Killer and the Third Wizard Marshall, Headmaster, not the hereditary nobles you are so familiar with."

Albus grumbled a little. "Fine then," he finally spat in a demeanor that the portraits of the headmaster's office were unfamiliar with. "I'm concerned about my great-grandson and your alliance. Nothing more, nothing less."

Kiritsugu raised an eyebrow. "You have no desire to manipulate us?"

Albus looked offended. "Mr. Emiya, I'm not stupid enough to think that I can control anything related to you and your alliance. Perhaps your public image, but even then it's a stretch. No. I do not want to make your alliance my enemy."

"And Harry being your great-grandson. This is the first time I'm hearing about this."

Here, Albus's face darkened considerably. "The late Minister Fudge decided to take actions without consulting me, despite the fact that I was the one who was supposed to be Harry's magical guardian."

"I see," Kiritsugu replied. "I hope you've realized by now that-"

Albus waved him off. "Harry is safe and happy where he is. As long as my access to him is not blocked, I shall not challenge your custody."

* * *

 **-AVA: TOT-**

* * *

Harry decided that despite the fact that he had been sorted into Ravenclaw, which meant that the Sorting Hat -with its experience- thought the house of knowledge fit him best, so he should be making friends.

Turns out, the whole Ravenclaw was a bit like him, though there was a degree to everything. Particularly, the first years seemed like any other kids out there in the mundane world; just kids. This extended to second years as well. They were all generally very excited or tired from being excited for so long.

The third years to fifth years -roughly determined by their appearance and body development- seemed more at ease and more focused. There were gears clicking behind their eyes.

It was some of the sixth and seventh-year students that made him wary, though. They looked calm and bored, but Harry could see their magic whirling within them alternating between their magical core, their eyes, and their brain; they were advance enough to readily switch between the focus of multiple spells between their bodies.

They weren't like the rest of the students that he saw in the entire school. In fact, they behaved more like the magi in the Clock Tower. Their eyes roamed. Searching. Analyzing. Planning.

They were the truly dangerous people in this entire school.

...

Minus the professors.

* * *

When Johnathan Cavendish saw Harry Potter Emiya enter, he -like many others- kept his eye of the heir of the Potter family.

He -like many others- thought of ways to bring the Heir Potter under his wing as to spread his influence over the young man. He knew that Harry was currently adopted by the Third Wizard Marshall -which he found very little information on- and had been told by his father to do everything to get on Harry Potter Emiya's good side, as that would not only be bringing the good will of future Lord Potter and the Boy-Who-Lived but also that of the Third Wizard Marshall.

Strangely enough, when he asked his father about what wizard marshalls were, his father paled and refused to answer.

Perhaps he could get Harry to answer...

* * *

Flitwick watched his students mingle, however short this one was going to be, and he came to a quick conclusion.

The older student-heirs in his house put off from introducing themselves to the Potter heir while the rest of the student body seemed to be jumping up and down to introduce themselves to the Boy-Who-Lived.

Yes, he made that distinction of the boy's two titles on purpose. As the Potter heir, Harry Potter Emiya was a great political figure, and definitely, someone who the older years should be trying to ally themselves with. On the other hand, the title Boy-Who-Lived was an influence among the rest of British magical population as their savior.

And as all politicians of the Witenagemot knew ... influence among the people was a non-factoring when one did not need it. After all, while the Minister for Magic may be chosen by the people, rest of the seats of the Witenagemot were hereditary as determined by the ancient bloodlines.

As much as the half-goblin loathed to admit, many of the reasons that the wizards proclaimed the old blood was because it made sense both magically and politically. The seats of the Witenagemot declared one best fit of its bloodline to take over the newest seat; whenever a house became extinct, a new house was chosen _by_ _magic_ , not by Witengamot vote as many people suspected.

Purebloods wanted that political power. They wanted to have a say in their ancestor's and their family's land.

To top it off, the magi of the Clock Tower have been introducing discoveries about how magical blood can be reinforced by selective marriage over the course of the last century or so. This has caused the rise of Grindelwald and Voldemort, leading to instabilities in the Wizarding World.

Flitwick half-believed that the instability of the Wizarding World was the intent for slipping such information. Of course, unlike the rest of the wizards, Flitwick had more access to magi knowledge thanks to his blood. Goblin blood, to be exact.

Through this connection, he had discovered the full details regarding this "reinforcement through marriage." Like how the magi population avoided interbreeding with the battle fervor of a Greek Wizarding Spartan. Like how the magi welcomed new blood if they were strong, regardless of their ancestry. Like how all of these information have been "accidentally" not slipped to wizarding circles.

Even today, Flitwick shuddered at how devastating such misinformation had done to his community.

He also remembered correctly, however, that Harry's current magical guardian was the Third Wizard Marshall. He wondered what kind of education Mister Harry Potter Emiya had, and how deeply the man's influence ran in the Boy-Who-Lived...

"Gather around, children," he finally spoke up after having finished his analysis of the first years. "It's time to talk about your life ahead in Hogwarts and what classes you might want to take."

* * *

Harry was intrigued.

As Professor Flitwick gathered the first years at the center of the Ravenclaw Common Room, Harry went with them and sat down next to a girl and a boy.

"So you're really Harry Potter then?" the boy asked.

Harry raised an eyebrow but nodded. "Harry Potter Emiya."

He had been told that his name held some significance in the wizarding communities, but for children to ask? Troublesome. He would not be left alone, would he?

"... and so you have four distinct levels of class: basic, beginner, intermediate, and expert. If any of you decide to take the extracurricular classes, you will all start as basic unless you have had beforehand experience and/or knowledge of the subject It'll be mainly theoretical and a lot of essays and exams. Beginner comes after basic and focuses more on the practical side of your subject. This class will have little in regards to written tests and more on projects. The intermediate level is when theory and practice are brought together. Expert is open to graduate students and researchers."

Harry's mouth and hand moved faster than he could think. "Professor Flitwick!" he shouted as he shot his hand up.

"Yes, Mr. Emiya?"

"Researchers and graduate students?" He hadn't heard about this before.

Flitwick grinned. "Of course! There are students who wish to continue their studies in their fields after Hogwarts, and we do possess the largest collection of lore in all of Britain! Not everyone is an auror or ministry paperworker."

"Then what's Hogwart's relation to Clock Tower?"

The mood in the room soured visibly, especially from the upper years.

"Well..." he hesitated. "Clock Tower has no school like Hogwarts, and accept heavily those from the magus bloodline rather than wizards and witches. Why do you ask?"

"I wanted to know if there were any joint research between the two, sir."

There was a burst of laughter somewhere in the room, and even Flitwick looked amused at the idea.

"Mr. Emiya, the idea of a magi working with the wizardkin is ludicrous! We may not be at war, but we are certainly not friends with each other to do something like that."

"Oh," Harry replied. "Okay."

"Any other questions before I am interrupted again?"

Harry flushed in embarrassment, and there weer a few snickers in the background.

"Then let's continue. Now, there are over a hundred extracurricular classes offered at Hogwarts for students to take, but of them, only thirty-two are available to the intermediate courses. The popular courses are thus:

"Enchanting, which is the art of infusing long-term spells and spell commands into objects.

"Spell Creation, which is what its name suggests, but you need to have at least an Acceptable in second year Arithmancy to take this class.

"Warding, which is the creation and modification of the ward schemes. You also need to have an Acceptable in second year Arithmancy as well as an Acceptable in third year Runes.

"Magical Cuisine, which is the art of turning magical beasts in delectable food for our taste buds.

"Alchemy. This one is thought personally by Professor Dumbledore, but unfortunately, it is only available to those who met its strict requirements.

"Broom Making. This one requires you to get an Exceeds Expectations in Enchanting to take.

"Magical Combat, which prepares you for the dangerous world outside ... or makes you the one who is dangerous. This course -along with dueling- is taught yours truly." Here he bowed fancifully, twirling his hands and pulling his left leg back. "And of course, dueling, the refined version of magical combat. It is more of a show than actual fight, but magical dueling is one of the biggest international money-making shows to date, second only to Quidditch." He pointed to the wall on the far side of the common room. "The full list of extracurricular courses, their requirements, and their available time are listed on that charmed paper over there."

* * *

After that, Professor Flitwick left the common room.

Harry, on the other hand, was deep into thought. Unlike what he had believed, Hogwarts had a variety of courses available. He wondered which courses he was going to take.

He too stood before the charmed paper and looked at its list of courses available.

He wanted to take Enchating, Spell Creation, and Warding, because those seemed to be the most relevant to what he-

 **Irrelevant.**

'Tome?'

 **Unnecessary.**

'Why?'

 **All knowledge can be given. Classes take time away from.**

Harry nodded, understanding what the tome wanted.

'Not even one?'

 **...Maybe one.**

Harry grinned. 'Thanks.'

Harry liked the Tome. He liked it too much to leave it behind. Of course, he had to follow his father's instructions, so he had left the Tome behind.

But at the same time, he hadn't.

His father never said anything about not duplicating the tome, and the tome was especially helpful in that regard. So yes, the tome had been duplicated, but its outer appearance changed. Instead of the leather covered, dusty, and heavy tome, it now looked like what Harry held in his hands: several sheets of paper.

'We'll have to wait for our schedule tomorrow anyway to see which ones are available,' Harry thought, and left for the bed.

* * *

 **-AVA: TOT-**

* * *

When Harry received his schedule the next day, he frowned.

Why?

Because outside of Saturday and Sunday, all of his mornings and half of his afternoon was covered with basic classes.

This also meant that he would not be able to take almost of the offered extracurricular classes.

Why did he need to take transfiguration? Why did he need to take potions? Why did he need to take Char- that one was actually a useful class. Why did he need to take _Defense against the Dark Arts_? That class sounded dumb. There is no defense against dark arts but knowledge in the dark arts itself.

And what was the wizarding/witchery definition of the dark arts?

... Probably along the lines of the magi, Harry thought to himself as he went back to reading a new chapter.

This chapter involved a lot of Indian wizardkin fashion in the 500's AD.

* * *

Shirou had a different problem, or rather, he had the opposite problem.

Unlike Harry who had begun his magical education in what was the wizardkin equivalent of "kindergarden" -and thus did not have a transcript or anything of the kind-, Shirou had spent a few years in magi equivalent of magical prep-school in Japan (the mundane culture had much more impact on both education and culture of the Japanese magi and wizardkin) and did have a transcript.

Of course, due to his status as a magi rather than a wizard, Shirou's transcript was taken with a grain of salt by the wizarding English Ministry of Magic. Kiritsugu had seen this as a disadvantage and had taken Shirou's transcript to the new Scottish Ministry of Magic, who was much more favorable to the Third Wizard Marshall -especially since they learned that both of his adopted children would attend Hogwarts and that the wizard marshall in question was to take care of the Forbidden Forest.

And thus, Shirou's translated transcript looked something like this...

 _Credit Given to:_  
 _5th year Runes_  
 _3rd year Arithmancy_  
 _2nd year Transfiguration_  
 _7th Muggle Studies_  
 _2nd year Herbology_  
 _7th year Defense Against the Dark Arts (Theory)_  
 _Expert Enchanting_  
 _Intermediate Alchemy_  
 _Intermediate Magical Theory_  
 _Expert [Redacted] I_  
 _Expert [Redacted] II_  
 _Expert [Redacted] I_  
 _Expert [Redacted] II_

 _Partial Credit Given To:_  
 _7th year Defense Against the Dark Arts (Practical)_  
 _6th year Runes (Theory)_  
 _Expert Magical Theory_

Suffice to say, both the headmaster and the deputy headmistress were extremely concerned and confused regarding Shirou Emiya.

The boy had transferred in as a fifth year, and yet he had already completed _alchemy_ and _enchanting_ of all things; they were the two of the hardest courses available in Hogwarts right now. Was it his family's specialization? It would explain how the Emiya Alliance gained such quick notoriety and power; a family of expert alchemists could easily outproduce a hundred wizards and witches by themselves.

'But the Magus Killer is not an alchemist,' Dumbledore thought to himself as he looked over the transcript for the fifth time. 'In fact, he's known for fighting like a mundane mercenary than anything else.'

And those redacted skills. Were they family magic or something else? Like some sort of forbidden art?

He wanted to know, but knew that such a venture was a lost cause even before it began.

His body involuntarily shuddered as he remembered the fox-eared woman who deferred to Shirou Emiya. It would not do well for him to earn that woman's ire.

Of course, if this was due to family magic, then he would not pry into it. He may be progressive, but by no means was social liberal. He knew little about how the magi family magic worked outside of the fact that it involved surgical implantation of a _solid_ magic into the heir, the wizarding and witchery family magic involved a lot of tomes and grimoires keyed into the blood of the family. Not only that, those family magics were unusually tied to the blood of the family that created them to the point that if someone else used it, then there would be little to no reaction, if there was no rebound of any kind.

Were the alleged family magic dangerous though? Was it related to those damned magus vampirism by any chance? He really hoped it wasn't; he would have to fight the Third Wizard Marshall to expel the boy if it was the case.

* * *

While Dumbledore frustrated over the case of Shirou Emiya, the younger Emiya was frustrating his head of house.

Harry stood firmly before his head of house, who was just slightly shorter than him.

"Yes, Mr. Emiya? What is your reason for wanting to see me in private?"

The breakfast was over, and it was transition time. Instead of going to his class, however, Harry had asked Professor Flitwick's presence regarding his academics.

The resigned look that his professor and head of house had told Harry that he had been expecting something like this. The professor did not seem surprised at all by his sudden request.

"I would like to skip 1st year Charms, Transfiguration, and History of Magic."

Professor Flitwick sighed. "Mr. Emiya, I can't just let you skip your core classes. They are called Core Classes for a reason."

Harry kept himself silent for a little bit before he spoke up again. "What if I know as much as my brother does, if not more, and the only reason I had no transcript to show for it was because I hadn't gone to a magical school like my brother did?"

His head of house raised an eyebrow. "Can your brother and guardians confirm this?"

He nodded. "We created this together after all," he replied easily as he pulled out his personalized mystic code.

The moment Professor Flitwick's eyes landed on the mughal dagger, Harry could hear the proverbial gears clank away in the professor's head. "May I?" he asked, extending his hands forward a little.

Harry nodded and placed his mystic code in his professor's hand.

The moment Flitwick touched the mystic code, he became deathly still.

To the half-goblin, he was not holding onto an object of utility. No, his goblin lineage could feel the depth of knowledge needed to create this item. He couldn't understand the knowledge involved; it was comparable to a radar officer aboard a nuclear submarine looking at a blip on the radar. And if Flitwick was that nuclear submarine officer, he would be seeing blips covering the entire radar.

It was a sense of dread and awe.

This item that Mr. Emiya claimed to have had part in making was more valuable than the entirety of the richest and oldest vault in Gringotts.

Utterly, stupendously, and horrifyingly priceless.

And Mr. Emiya just placed it into his hand, trusting him to not steal it (or was it the fact that he was a professor here that lent him that trust?).

He could see esoteric runes carved into its handles and blades, entwining seamlessly. It drew in the mana in the air, and Flitwick felt the drawn mana _pulsating_ within the item. The closest thing Flitwick could compare this dagger was ... a heart of a dragon.

A steady beating rhythm of a powerful creature.

How to describe it further...?

A burning sensation of being near a fire contained within a directed tube. Like those muggle guns. Heavy, small, and yet so powerful.

An old wound throbbed.

Flitwick gently placed the item back into Harry's hand. "And what is the purpose ... of this dagger, Mr. Emiya?"

"It's my analog of wizard's wand," he grinned. "I ... didn't like the way Mr. Olivander conducted his business."

Flitwick raised an eyebrow. It was true; not many children liked Olivander for his ... intrusive mannerism. Sometimes haughty, but rarely.

"And?"

"Well, I just left."

Flitwick froze for a second.

"Pardon?"

"I just left the shop, and tried to make my own."

"Mr. Emiya, one does not simply make their own wand," he replied exasperatedly.

"I know. I didn't know enough to make a wand that would fit me... so I asked for help from my family. My brother forged the steel of this dagger," Harry excitedly explained. "He spent around an entire day just to make it perfect, and it is."

Flitwick agreed. The steel of that dagger was extraordinary. Definitely goblin-level forge material, if not beyond.

"It was my sister, Rin, and Tamamo who designed the accessories and runes," he added. "But I think they went overboard. They mixed the runes with sanskrit and then layered it with kanji seals and finally with hanzi graphs."

Professor Flitwick's mind blanked out in shock after the first half of that last sentence.

One must understand that runes are the first go-to magical alphabet for the western culture. This extends to magical communities of both American continents -excluding of the natives. Sanskrit was confined to its use in India as were hanzi and kanji in East Asia. There have been ideas about using dual magical alphabets to produce a different result, but all such research were met with disasters ranging from explosions (a common sign of failure) and sinking islands.

For the dagger to possess not one, not two, but _four_ different scripts?

He shivered a little as his mind rebooted.

Yes, even as an old, learned, and confident wizard, Flitwick decided that there were always things to learn.

"I'll ... discuss this with your older brother, Mr. Emiya. If what you say is true, then he will vet your knowledge. Of course, this will be followed by multiple tests to see exactly where you are academically..."

"And practically?"

"That would be up to each individual tester."

"Alright," Harry grinned. "Thank you for taking me seriously, professor!" With that he scurried off to his first class of the year.

'How can I not after seeing that,' Flitwick thought to himself as he walked to his own class in a daze. Then he chuckled. 'I wonder what other surprises I'll come across from those two?'

* * *

 **-AvA: TOT-**

* * *

The surprise in question came the next day.

Magical Combat and Dueling were both taught by himself during Tuesday evenings after dinner when there were no core classes. The class was held in the only dueling hall in Hogwarts with eight dueling rings with the spectator's benches in a rising

Shirou Emiya enrolled for the class, and to Flitwick's surprise, was the first volunteer for the match-ups.

He now stood across from Marcus Flint, who was Slytherin's top duelist who wanted to "put the muggleborn in his place." Flitwick took off points for that remark, which made Marcus flush in embarrassment for being caught red-handed speaking such rude terms.

To his observations, Flitwick noticed that Shirou hadn't reacted to that remark.

"Rules for this engagement are as follows:  
1\. You do not use fatal attacks. Not only will this land you an expulsion, but because of your age, you will be prosecuted as a juvenile offender of the law.  
2\. You will not aim to maim. While not expulsion worthy, you will be punished -as will your entire House be- depending on the severity of the action.  
3\. If I say stop, it's over."

The two combatants nodded.

"Now remember, this is not dueling; this is magical combat class. So begin."

Funny thing about the rules was in their lack thereof; there were no rules outside of those three that he mentioned.

Marcus, a veteran member of the class, shot backward while firing off spells rapidly.

'Say what you will about Mr. Flint's intellect, his wandwork is impressive,' Flitwick thought to himself as a transparent barrier encased the thirty meter radius circular ring of the dueling ring.

And Mr. Emiya... dodged them all by merely twitching his body here and there, letting those spells miss him by a mere centimeter. He lifted his hand here to dodge the follow-up attack, and then side stepped another.

Then he _slid_ forward.

Flitwick was surprised by the movement. Mr. Emiya just crossed a distance of ten or so meters in the span of a second while looking like he was walking.

With the dexterity of a kraken and the impact of a Bombarda Maxima, Shirou struck with his fists.

What should have been a small push sent Flint flying.

Everyone watched as Flint flew in slow motion before slamming into the barrier.

And Shirou was upon him with _conjured_ dual blades. They bore down on the veteran Hogwarts duelist with the speeding arc of a hawk -they were deadly, and were mere moments from slashing open Mr. Flint's neck and painting the dueling ring red with blood.

"Victory to Shirou Emiya!" Flitwick hurriedly called out before Mr. Flint could be hurt further.

The blades halted halfway through the strike, and Flint hit the floor, falling down from where he had struck the barrier, a second after his call.

The boy's skin was ashen with shock, and his body was trembling with fear.

"M-monster...!"

The boy flinched before he backed away from Mr. Flint in a single, controlled step. "A monster would have left you bleeding for the comment," he replied tersely before looking to the crowd and then to him. "Any more out there, Professor Flitwick? I reckon that he's not quite the best that the school has to offer."

"No, not quite," a voice from the crowd spoke up before he could.

Flitwick turned his gaze towards the voice, and his face lightened up a bit. "Miss Clearwater."

Penelope Clearwater was an enigma to the faculty. She was a muggleborn, but she had this ... natural alignment to elemental magicks that even Flitwick hadn't seen in so-called professional elementalists. Fire, wind, water, air, light, earth... they came to her call easily and sometimes wordlessly.

She was also the third best student-combatant in the school.

Yes, student-combatant. She did not dance around in the dueling ring with rules looking over her. She was quite like Mr. Emiya (older) in that regard. Powerful and feared.

"If it is alright with you...?" he asked. She nodded. "Then the next match will be between Mr. Emiya and Ms. Clearwater."

* * *

Shirou backed away from Flint after hearing that.

A monster? That was how some of his age group saw him? He looked around to see if anyone else agreed to that statement, but not before a snark remark. "A monster would have left you bleeding for the comment," he replied with ease.

As he looked over the audience, he could see that while some of them held that same face of fear as Flint, most did not. In fact, they seemed more interested in him than disinterested by his power.

... But seriously, all he did was use Reinforcement and Tracing, nothing fancy. He hadn't even pulled out one of his conceptual weapons. This was partly due to not wanting to reveal his trump cards too early. After all, this was a combat class -meaning that whatever skill he showed off would be studied by his peers and even the professor in charge so that measures of counter planned.

He hadn't even planned on fighting today. He had wanted a feel for what kind of class this was, and had said as such.

Apparently to the professor, that was same as volunteering to fight in the ring.

Now that he was here in the ring though, he was eager to see more of the prowess of the wizards and witches. Flint may have had some experience in fighting, but he was nothing. Too weak. Too slow.

Again, he hadn't even needed to pull out one of his conceptual blades.

"Any more out there, Professor Flitwick? I reckon that he's not quite the best that the school has to offer," he asked.

"No, not quite."

It wasn't the professor who answered but another student.

She stood up from the audience.

She was a brunette beauty, not that he cared much beyond noting her beauty as such. Her hair was drawn back into a ponytail, and her sleeves were rolled up.

"If it is alright with you...?" Professor Flitwick asked her, and she nodded. "Then the next match will be between Mr. Emiya and Ms. Clearwater."

She made her way to the dueling ring as Flint left.

As soon as she entered the ring, she fired off four spells. Shirou hadn't expected this, and took two to the chest while hte other two struck his weapons away from his hands.

But they did no damage.

Clearwater looked surprised as did Professor Flitwick.

"Those were stunners," Clearwater replied. "You have enchanted clothes?"

Shirou grimaced a little as the Reinforcement held in his chest disappeared, and he quickly had to reset the entire procedure lest his muscles tear themselves apart. "No, I don't," he replied. The blades thrown aside disappeared into motes of light, and a new pair formed in his hands. "I guess you're one for victory?"

"Yup," she grinned.

* * *

While it was rude, it wasn't against the rules to start the fight as soon as one entered the ring, and thus he let the attack pass.

One of the reasons why she was feared in the ring was because she was unpredictable. Spell firing mid-talk, attack from underneath, hidden rocks that trip opponents, and the like.

She was a warrior, and it was sad to see her like this.

Trapped in the uniform of a school girl in one of the most stable countries. Unable to fight as she desired. She would have done well in the last war.

Ms. Clearwater transfigured the sand in the ring into golems and sent them at Mr. Emiya.

His swords bisected them easily where they struck, but they had bought Clearwater enough time to perform one of her invented spells.

"Pulvicarci!"

The sand that was once golem rose up once more in as a sandstorm around Shirou.

"A sandstorm cage?" Shirou said to himself. "Neat."

"Thank you," Clearwater smiled, though it was one of smug victory. "So Hogwarts does have something to offer, yes?"

Shirou stared at her for a moment before smiling.

"Trace, On."

Those two words sent a shiver running up Flitwick's spine.

'That was a magus's aria...!' he realized after a moment.

And Emiya pulled out a small dagger from a ripple in space.

Runes covered all corners of the blade and handle.

The blade touched the sandstorm prison, and the prison ... ceased to exist. Whatever means the sands have been thrown about stopped their support, and the sand fell to the ring floor.

Clearwater wasn't done yet. She fired off spells.

All of which were intercepted harmlessly by the dagger.

Clearwater sent more spells. This time, she used blasters around Shirou to throw debris at him.

He was upon her in those few seconds.

The arm swung.

Feet scrambled.

And pause.

"Victory to Shirou Emiya!"


	30. Chapter 30

The day after, Professor Flitwick had called upon the few examiners needed to give Harry his needed examinations to skip his classes. All professors were welcome to watch as Harry had invited everyone who wanted to watch to do so.

So now, to Harry's surprise, half of the school had gathered in the Great Hall with Harry at the center of it, standing in front of the examiner.

"Mr... Emiya," the examiner said as he stared at the paper. "You wish to skip some of your classes, yes?"

Harry nodded.

He listened once yesterday to how that ghost droned on and on and on. It was ridiculous, even if the details provided were supreme.

But who cares about four or five goblin rebellions when there was a whole world to be studied?!

To that end, he had changed his initial statement of wanting to skip 1st year History of Magic to skipping the entire class.

He just didn't think that half of the school would be interested in seeing where he went with this.

"Very well. Due to your circumstances -and the backing of your magical guardian, whose permission we have gained this morning-, we will go through the standard tests first before we move onto the oral part of the exam. This means that the hall will have to be cleared of all students and involved parties."

Harry jumped a little at the protests thrown by the students and some of the adults, but they were silenced quickly.

The examiner raised his wand, and unleashed an ear-piercing screech.

Everyone fell holding their ears.

"I was not asking."

This examiner is very willing to utilize his magic.

Once everyone not involved was gone, Harry found himself sitting on a conjured chair with a conjured desk in front of him.

It looked like white plastic.

"Before we begin, I must recite the courses you wish skip beforehand. Mr. Emiya, you have expressed your wish to skip the following courses: all of history of magic, 1st and 2nd year transfiguration, 1st year Charms, and all of Muggle Studies. Are these the course you wish to skip?"

Harry nodded again.

"Very well. Your test is currently being processed to meet your desires. As it is part of the Hogwarts Charter, a test must not take more than 5 hours total maximum per course. As the whole of History of Magic counts as one course, this means that you will be given four tests over the course of four days, both written, practical, and oral. Is this acceptable."

"Yes, sir," Harry replied.

The examiner smiled. "Good. Then let's begin with History of Magic," he said and waved his wand.

Suddenly, Harry found a stack of parchment appearing on his desk with...

"Why a quill?"

"I'm sorry?" the examiner asked.

Harry held up the quill that had appeared with the parchment. "Why a quill?"

"It is to prevent cheating. The quill you are holding has been enchanted with several cheating prevention charms as well as sensing your intent to cheat. Of course, the latter will not be penalized because it is unfair to punish you for thinking about wanting to cheat."

"Huh," Harry muttered and got to work.

The first question on the test was ...

 _Who is Merlin?_

... Seriously?

 _Who created the Witengamot?_

 _Who was responsible for the Declaration of Family Magic?_

 _What is the Kingdom of Wessex, and how does it relate to Ministry of Magic? (circle two of ten)_

Harry actually found it the test to be fun and challenging; he didn't know some of them!

He would definitely look them up with Obscure.

* * *

"Done."

The proctor for the test snapped his head up, and Harry grinned in return.

The man seemed to check for time, and his eyes widened. Harry wondered if there was some error. Sure, he didn't use the full five hours, but most of the questions were simple and straightforward... until he came to the free response.

Those were devious. It demanded critical thinking to answer them thoroughly enough, but thankfully, Harry knew enough about the materials. For example, the last free response question was about the origin of the first wizards and witches. It was easy enough, but Harry knew that he would not receive the full credit if he just said "Ancient Egypt." So he wrote down the details of the first magical human beings from Sumeria. About Gilgamesh and his lineage. About the divergence of the magi and wizards into Arabian and African descents. He wrote about how magical Egyptians relied on a standardized foci while the Israelite, Mesopotamian, and Arabian magicals relied on specializing.

"Alright," the proctor said as he waved his wand again. The test on Harry's table floated away and to the proctor, who waved his wand again. The papers shifted through themselves, red ink appearing where there were errors -without a quill or pen. The spell, whatever it was, came to a halt at the last three pages of the test, which was where the free response questions were.

There was a significant lack of correction there.

Then the test put itself back together and there was a little bit of scribbling.

"You did ... extremely well, Mr. Emiya."

Harry grinned. "Thank you," he replied. He receive praise from a proctor who must've went through hundreds such tests was good in Harry's mind.

The proctor, on the other hand, looked very perturbed before he calmed himself down. "You passed the NEWT History of Magic with an Outstanding."

The professors looked surprised.

"Congratulations, Mr. Emiya."

"Thank you, Mr ... ?"

"Everestein."

"Thank you, Mr. Everestein."

"I would also like to say this, Mr. Emiya," the man added. "There are some more ... fantastical elements that you have introduced into your stories."

Harry froze.

What did this man just call his answers?

"Especially the bit about Gilgamesh and his godly lineage. While the muggle myth does state so, his lineage has obviously been inflated. He was nothing more than just a powerful wizard who-"

"You're wrong."

Everyone in the hall froze.

"Pardon...?" the proctor narrowed his eyes.

Harry narrowed his eyes in return. "Are you dismissing the existence of deities, Mr. Everestein?"

"Of course! They are nothing but fiction created by the ignorant muggles and magicals in the ancient times. They mistook powerful wizards as gods for doing what they perceived to be impossible. Even today, there are muggle who worship this 'Jesus' who was obviously a wizard. Walking on water is a complicated spell, but one that can be done and duplicating food is impossible; he must've apparated in food from somewhere-"

Harry couldn't believe this man, and didn't even listen. The God of Judaism, the God of Christianity, and the God of Islam was the same god who gave the ancient King Solomon his near infinite wisdom in magecraft, the very man whose death led to the _end_ of the Age of Gods. This man was willingly ignoring the existence of Alaya and Gaia, the pinnacles supernatural forces engaged in skirmish to this day. He was _bloody ignorant_ about Type Moon and the other Ultimate Ones.

"You fool!" Harry hissed.

Everestein stuttered. "W-What?!"

"You bloody, bloody fool! You're one of those stuck up 'purebloods,' aren't you?!" Harry raged. "One of those filthy assholes-" "Language, Mr. Emiya!" "-spreading lies about your own world, hiding behind thin veils of pride and money! You deny the existence of deities and elementals?! How big of a fool are you?! You talk as if you don't even know the lineage about the vampires and the Ultimate Ones!"

"You are talking about nonsense and stepping into dangerous territory, young man!" Everestein retorted as soon as he composed himself. "You are spouting idiocy! There are no gods, and you will listen to the experts in the Ministry! The Ministry does not acknowledge what is clearly just powerful wizards and witches strutting their power around in front of muggles-"

Unfortunately, Harry's rage had reached a critical point by this point. He wasn't thinking clearly. He wasn't acting rationally.

And to everyone's surprise, it was Professor Dumbledore who came to his rescue.

"Unfortunately, Mr. Everestein, I would have to side with Mr. Emiya on this topic."

Every head in the room snapped towards the most venerable wizard in the entire Europe.

Even Harry's head did so, though less out of shock and more of "oh, you know this too? I kind of expected it but let's hear what you say."

"Headmaster Dumbledore...?" Everestein muttered in his shock.

The old man sighed. "Mr. Everestein."

The man stood straight.

"Have you ever been outside of our British isles?"

"No, but I've earned a Masters on the subject of History of Magic."

Dumbledore nodded. "Of course. How else would you have proctored this test for us? And I thank you for taking your time to do so."

The man nodded, confused by the thanks and yet expecting something more than that...

"Then tell me, Mr. Everestein, what happens when a war breaks out and the winner wins. What does the winner write down?"

Everestein frowned because it was a question that was asked rather frequently in History of Magic, or any kind of history class. Dumbledore knew this, of course; he had a masters in History of Magic too!

"Winner writes down their version."

Dumbledore nodded. "Good, good," he replied. "Then why haven't you thought that about our own Ministry of Magic?"

There was silence.

"Because it is preposterous-"

"Our magus neighbor in London doesn't seem to think so."

Everestein scoffed. "Then they are fools."

"Then am I a fool?"

The man seemed like he wanted to rage, but Dumbledore wanted him to do exactly. Just as Harry said, this man was a staunch pureblood in his ideals and his perspectives.

"Let me compound on that question, Mr. Everestein," he said as he stood up. "Is someone who never left the British isles, someone who never stood at a warlock's level of magical power, insight, and knowledge, calling the warlock a fool for stating what he knows to be true? Is a backyard potion tinkerer calling a well traveled man stupid?"

Everestein finally shook his head sideways.

"Then know this, Mr. Everestein," he said as he waved his own wand to bring Harry's paper to himself. "Though the Ministry of Magic may blind itself to the truth, we here at Hogwarts will not. My title of Wizard Marshall applies not only to wizards, Mr. Everestein, but also to the magi. Keep that in mind. You may leave, and please don't return until you truly understand the true History of Magic."

* * *

Harry knew that he "created quite the mess" as Vlad, his Lancer, would say.

And perhaps he found himself hating something so fervently for the first time.

...

...

No, no, no. Carrots will always be forever on top of his list of "Hated Things"; willfully ignorant scholars will have to take the second position.

"Mr. Emiya?"

Harry snapped his head up, surprised by the sudden closeness of the voice.

It was Headmaster Dumbledore.

"Yes, professor?" he asked.

"Though it seems that the English Ministry of Magic had sent someone ill equip to test someone of your knowledge, you still pass."

"I... do?"

"Of course," he said as he held the test in his hands. "While some of the conjectures made may have been far fetched from _their_ perspective, it is something I know, and as headmaster of Hogwarts, I can grant any student pass for their classes if they show that they know the material, which you certainly have."

"... Thank you."

"It's not a problem, Mr. Emiya. Also, since you only wish to skip certain years of other subjects, I expect that you will not need to wait for other examiners; our own professors are good enough for that."

Harry nodded.

"Good then. The next exam will be held tomorrow, same time and same place. Is that acceptable?"

"Yes, sir."

"Run along and prepare for those exams then, Mr. Emiya."

Harry did, and wondered why the headmaster was willing to cover him so.


	31. Chapter 31

A fist slammed into the table.

Then the owner regretted doing so immediately.

As much as Yohannas Einzbern wanted, he couldn't show that he overdid with that fist banging. Instead, he focused that reddening face of his -which he knew was underway after being teased about it throughout his childhood- to denote to others exactly how angry he was.

He was the new head of the Einzbern family after the old man croaked in one of his experiments.

And the first thing he learned upon becoming the head of the house was that the traitor Kiritsugu had become a Wizard Marshall.

It was spit to the face of his house!

But there was little he could do as of now. If he were to attack the Emiya, then he would be considered an enemy of the association, and his house did not have the means to fight back such a large enemy.

While Einzberns were the pioneers of alchemy and homunculus creation, and with wealth brought on by the alchemy, Einzberns were in possession of one of the largest defensible fortress -in both mundane and magical terms- and an army of combat-ready homunculi numbering in three thousands, give or take a few hundred. But even that was not enough to fight against the Mage's Association should he attack them.

While it was not well known throughout the moon world, Mage's Association had a mutual defensive pact with other magical societies and organizations. Veela Clan Confederacy, Holy Napoli Institute, and Wizards of Jerusalem were few that Yohannas remembered right at the top of his head. The Wizards of Jerusalem alone could field two legions worth of battle hardened wizards.

Speaking of battle hardened wizards, Yohannas also knew that even if the current political climate allowed him to, he would eventually decide against fighting the infamous Magus Killer. The answer was simple: one must court death intimately to face the Magus Killer. Not only did he maintain 5 Servants from the latest Holy Grail War -an impossibility but a fact regardless-, he also had the backing of the other two Wizard Marshalls.

Even if he had a legion of homunculi, he would avoid that.

...

But it didn't mean that he couldn't make the man's life hard.

He also knew that Emiya was trying to set up his own base of operations. If the information he had received was correct, this base would rival the grand castle of Hogwarts in terms of defensive capabilities. And considering that he had only heard this a week ago while the construction of the main towers were said to be nearly complete twice that ago, those defenses were all set up by now.

So again, fighting the Magus Killer was a bad idea.

But ... Yohannas could always persuade the idiotic pureblood islanders to slander the man and hinder his recruitment. Yes, that was the way to go about hurting the Magus Killer. It would be a nuisance to the Magus Killer, but all great things started small.

* * *

After a bit of a prodding from Headmaster Dumbledore, Harry took all tests for the core classes and also for some of the extra curricular classes like Enchanting and Runes.

His results were thus: he would be allowed to skip up to 2nd year History of Magic, 2nd year Transfiguration, 7th year Muggle Studies, 3rd year Defense against the Dark Arts, and 3rd year Potions. From the extra curricular classes, he was given credit for Intermediate Enchanting, 3rd year Runes, Advance Magical Theory, Beginner Alchemy, Beginner Warding, and Beginner Spell Creation.

Suffice to say, the professors of Hogwarts were impressed.

"He is indeed a genius... or is it his upbringing?" Professor Flitwick asked his peers as he stared down at the contents before him. All professors in the meeting room currently had a piece of paper listing both the accomplishment and the highlights of Harry's magical life so far -as provided by Lord Wizard Marshall Emiya. The tests that Harry passed were -by this point- insignificant add-ons to already excellent life. "I wonder if I should introduce him to the master blacksmith of the Gringotts."

Minvera said nothing, but it was Poppy who was the most excited.

"Some of these rituals are what Ive never heard of? The Zulu Rituals seem extremely useful for a medicinal setting. I will have to inquire about these," she said.

"I can grant you those, Poppy."

Some of the professors looked to Dumbledore.

The man was ... impressive as ever. Adorned with rainbow tophat and a green and pink robe that stung the eyes, he sat at the head of the meeting table with his own report of Harry's accomplishment. At the same time, though, he had a stack of paperwork that his magicked quill was skimming through. He was, after all, the only alchemy professor in Hogwarts, and had his own papers to grade.

Poppy spoke up. "You knew of these?"

Dumbledore nodded without looking up. "Yes. It's been a while, but South Africa and the Zulu territories were one of the first places my own travels took me to. I'm sure I can find the notes by the end of this week."

"It'll be much appreciated, Albus."

"...But I am a bit worried about those Servants of theirs," Snape drawled.

Minerva frowned. "Indeed. That is a point I can agree on. It sounds too much like necromancy for _us_ to not be suspicious about this ... Emiya Alliance's training methods."

Albus knew that it was nothing like Necromancy. Nercomancy was an art of magic that forced magic into dead bodies to animate them to the wizard's will. There was nothing like that going on there. Those Servants -and Albus just knew that the fox eared woman had been one of them- were powerful, living, and breathing beings. But at the same time, Minerva was not going to just going to drop the subject.

Oh no no no. His oldest, living friend was going to snip and hound him for answers. Unfortunately, as well learned as he, Albus Dumbledore was, there were somethings that even he did not know. After all, no single man was a fountain of knowledge.

On the other hand, he was wary. Emiya Alliance seemed to be exactly that: a fountain of knowledge. Weapons of formidable value were dispensed to their heirs with ease -created specifically for them, if his sources were right-, and they were given training that would make some of the Aurors green with envy and they weren't even a third of the average Auror age! He was wary not because the alliance was giving their heirs such powerful knowledge and magic -that was expected of any noble house or organization!- but in the results of those knowledge.

Ever since he had learned about Emiya Alliance, he had planted agents and sent them out into the Wizarding World. Some of them were his old friends. Others were members of the Order of the Phoenix. And the last few were those who owed him personal debts, either monetary or in magic. And what he had learned truly frightened him.

Emiya Alliance was building a fortress-city that would make Hogwarts the second best defended location in all of British Isles.

Already, a flock of wizards and mundanes followed Lord Emiya. The last report from his spy reported as low as half a thousand wizarding families following him to thrice that. That's not to mention the muggles he hired and kept close. He had actually been shocked. After all, half a million of anything was not to be scoffed at. Half a million mundanes, a tenth of which were being trained.

Albus shook his head at the absurd growth of the Emiya Alliance.

'From what I understand, Lord Emiya had started his recruitment in earnest just a day after meeting me,' he reminisced. 'It's unlikely that he felt threatened by me, so what's the reason for this?'

He knew just as the other Wizard Marshalls that there existed extraterrestrial threats, but at the same time, he could not ignore the threats closer to home. To that end, he had forsaken the defense of the whole in favor of constructing a society capable of upholding that whole. Perhaps Lord Emiya was doing the exact opposite of his own actions? His current actions would make sense if such was the case.

"Albus?"

He looked up to see all of his professors looking at him worriedly.

"Yes?"

"We've been calling you for a minute now."

He chuckled. "I was very deep in thought, my friends. No need to worry."

The professors all exchanged looks before Minerva sighed.

"Is this about Lord Emiya?"

Albus hesitated for a second -too short for any but Flitwick to notice- but he nodded. "It's nothing illegal or malevolent. In fact, Lord Emiya is doing his job as a Wizard Marshall, but the methods he is using is what gets at me."

"Methods, Albus?"

"He has hired over half a million muggles, a quarter of whom are receiving military training. On top of that, he has another hundred wizarding families -all of whom are from Britain- and because of his status, the two sides are exchanging knowledge readily."

"Isn't that against the Statute of Secrecy?"

"Wizard Marshalls are exempt from that law on basis of their job requirements."

"So you are too?"

He nodded.

"...So that's how you were able to change it," Flitwick grunted. "Good riddance."

The younger wizards and witches looked at Flitwick.

"What is this 'it'?" Snape asked.

Flitwick scoffed. "Before your generation, Professor Snape, muggleborns, orphans or not, were just taken from their families by wizards and witches whose job was similar to the Obliviators. Their job was to alter the memory of the parents and caretakers so that they become compliant to letting their children attend Hogwarts. Sometimes, outright killing was allowed if the situation deemed it fit. Albus here was the proponent to removing such methods in the early 1950's."

"I see..." Snape muttered.

"I did it to ensure that mundane and wizards alike were able to communicate each other through their children and parents, so that the idea of wizards and witches living among them would not be as alien in their minds. Last reports from the Ministry employees involved in such matters seems to think that it has been working."

"That's ... good," Snape muttered.

Albus beamed at the man.

Everyone in this room were well-learned people. While it was not well known to the outside world, all professors and assistant professors officially hired by Hogwarts as full-time employee were required by the _wards_ of Hogwarts itself as well as the Sorting to have the minimum of three contemporary masteries. Albus went ahead and added a minimum of Acceptable in ICW's Muggle Studies as part of his requirement as well (one of the reasons why finding a Defense against the Dark Arts professor was hard; almost no one in Britain seemed to have _acceptable_ in ICW's Muggle Studies).

Everyone here had such credentials, and as such knew where the wizarding world stood in terms of economic, military, and cultural point to the mundane world.

"Not Good" would be an underestimate.

Snape himself had been shocked to the core with the abilities of the mundanes to wreck havoc. While the wizards were busy throwing spells from their wands -which hasn't evolved much-, the mundanes had developed weapons of mass destruction that could and would spell extinction for mankind. In fact, Snape had been so horrified by such weapons that he went in-depth into mundane military and tactic studies.

The man may not look like it with his pureblood leaning etiquette and manners, but he was the foremost expert in mundane military in all of Great Britain.

Albus wished that his pureblood peers were half as learned as Snape, then he wouldn't be having such opposition in the Witengamot. The fools, the lot of them.

"... By the way, where is Professor Hooch?"

* * *

While the professors were busy being amazed and worried, Harry was having the time of his life.

... Time of his life showing off to the public, that is.

Say what you will about Harry, but he was a boy. He may be influenced by the Emiya Alliance and their unnatural disposition, the Obscure Tome, and his family, but in the end, he was a boy.

Showing off was _part_ of a boy's natural instinct.

To that end, he had called upon his older brother in exchange for a favor -which involved switching places with the said older brother if Tamamo ever went on a shopping spree. But Harry had told himself that it would be worth it.

And it was.

The crowd watched him and his older brother as they duked it out in the quidditch pitch.

The rules were simple: if Professor Hooch, who had been bribed with a protection charm, said stop, they stopped. Everything but the "Unforgivables" were allowed.

"Ama'Urio!" Harry chanted and unleashed a wave of black energy.

Shirou sliced the wave of energy vertically from top to down with a single swing of his youngest blade, the Grigori. It was a sword that had been given two concepts: "Holy," "Protection," and "Amplifier." The spell Harry had used was an ancient Finnish shammanic spell used to fend of raiders. Kind of like Gandr, but weaker and affecting larger area.

Shirou was then upon him.

Harry, showing off his reflexes and training he received from Saber, kicked off from his position and unleashed four more Ama'Urio mid-air.

Shirou dodged the first two, and parried the last two.

Then it was Harry who was upon him inside his guard.

Shirou was fast, both of them knew. But Harry was the faster one of the two with his archaic rituals, spells, and magecraft.

And Harry held in his left hand one of his first mystic codes: Frozen Heart. The mystic code then sprouted a diamond-hard imitation of Harry's mughal dagger.

Shirou conjured five steel longswords, and rained them down.

Harry pouted and backpedaled.

Shirou grabbed one of the longswords, and lunged.

Harry parried. Longsword shattered.

Struck.

Parried. Another longsword shattered.

Struck.

Dodged, countered.

Re-countered. All longswords shattered against the ice dagger.

Then it was Grigori against the two daggers.

* * *

Shirou's last longsword -or was it the first?- clashed repeatedly against Harry's dual blades of steel and ice.

To the audience, it was a deadly dance they had never seen before.

It was thrilling and horrifying.

The sparks of steel rained the short gap between the two Emiyas, and the students watched.

Hermione was one of them.

Being born to a family of dentists, she had little to no idea about the world of magic. There were the books that she got and read, but one of the Emiyas on the ground fighting in front of her had shattered the validity of the books she had come to quickly regard as her lifeline to the wizarding world.

Thankfully, Hogwarts had more and professors to teach her. She expanded her horizons ... and yet, she felt like she had taken only a step forward.

Her eyes strained to follow the near artistic movements of the duo. They were just like the knights and swordsmen in fairy tales and movies. Strong, fast, and deadly.

But her attention was on their weapons, or more specifically, their magic.

Shirou had lines of magic running through his entire body as did Harry.

And when they clashed, dust blew over.

Hermione was mesmerized by the sight, and she knew it.

Fairy tales of warriors, gods, and magic...

Slowly but surely, she was coming to accept this new reality of hers beyond an intelligent acceptance.

... She was a smart girl for her age. She knew this. Her parents knew this. And her teachers back in her elementary made sure everyone knew this. The last was also one of the reasons why she had been bullied. So when magic was introduced to her and wand-waving was involved, she knew that she was going to learn and understand easily. She had for the first month.

Then the Emiyas showed up before her and proved her wrong.

There were things that were just beyond her.

...

She smiled.

But then again, what things were worth working for if it didn't take effort?

* * *

 _Wizards of Jerusalem_

 _Founded by the Hebrew wizards, magi, and their Arabic counterparts after the second Crusades, the Wizards of Jerusalem began as a sanctuary for the magicals from their intolerant mundane. As their population grew, however, the focus changed from providing security to conquest in the mid 1500's. At the time, the mundane Canaan was governed by Ottoman Empire, but in the moonlit world, the Wizards of Jerusalem had taken over the territories of Magical Jerusalem, Magical Canaan, Magical Jordan, Magical Syria, and Magical Lebanon. By the time they joined the ICW, they were one of the powerhouses._

 _They are the most conservative elements of the wizarding society, but this does not mean that they are like the pureblood doctrine facists of Europe. They are conservative in the way they organize magic and perform it. To them, the European "dark magic" is nothing but a child's play. To them, a true magic is something that strikes at the souls, the source of magic itself. At the same time, they had a strict ethical and moral code that they demanded out of all magical creatures -including themselves- to follow in their territory. However, this has resulted in the Wizards of Jerusalem being at odds more than not with the Egyptian magicals, Anatolian magicals, Cyprus magicals, and the Mecca magicals, all of whom are ore relaxed and far less tolerant of other ethnic groups and religions as well as being in the ICW. This has resulted in Wizards of Jerusalem being ousted from the organization in the late 1800's._

 _Instead of being beat down, though, they have grown stronger, and have even waged war against the entire of the ICW at the time of World War I._

 _They are also the largest magical military powers of the moonlit world, and have been compared to the mundane United States of America in their international influence (this is actually speculated due to a lack of information about the Mayan, Chinese, and Korean counterparts)._

 _The Sky Court of Babylonia_

 _The Sky Court of Babylonia is the remnant of the ancient Babylonian magi and wizards who escaped the collapse of the Parthian Empire. In their escape, their greatest and most powerful king, the First King of the Sky Court, raised a series of large mountains into the sky, and sacrificed his own life force and magic to link the mountains together and them to the leylines. Or so the legends say._

 _Truth be told, the Sky Court of Babylonia is a secretive bunch. The more you know, the more you question._

 _A wizard scholar of the Norwegian court once learned this about the Sky Court of Babylonia: "The Hidden Hand of the King sees the Norwegian Court." He later learned that this meant that the Sky Court had a spell capable of literally seeing the court. Next, he found out that the spell in question was only learned from the Sky Court itself. The spell though had origins which could not be discerned, and it certainly wasn't created by the Sky Court. Where did the Sky Court learn it? Who made it? Why does Sky Court have it?_

 _Now, most of these could be attributed to simple questions of who, what, why, when, and how, but it is agreed by most moonlit communities that this is more so with the Sky Court. Hell, the only community that rivals the Sky Court in secrecy is the Korean._

 _Veela Clan Confederacy_

 _Say what you will about the Veela, but the reason why they are free to roam the entirety of the Wizarding Europe is because they have the backing of their own species-nation, the Veela Clan Confederacy. Though it does not officially hold a single territory as its own like Wizarding Britain (or what remains of it), the confederacy unofficially holds more land than the entirety of France spread throughout Europe, North Africa, and the Americas. The last official census taken reported the number of magicals who claim themselves as member of the confederacy is thus: 3,411,000 Veelas, 80,600 Wizards, 200 Magi, and 1 phantasm dragon._

 _Yes, one of the key pieces that give the confederacy its power is the presence of a Phantasmal Dragon that has yet to remove itself from the mortal world. Though it is weaker than the purported strength and power of the Phantasmal Dragons, it is still capable of wiping out nations after nations should it decide to go on a rampage. Only reason it does not is because at the start of the confederacy, this dragon had children with one of the veelas, whose descendants walks to this day._

 _This dragon, whose identity is hidden by the confederacy, along with the Veelas' special fire siege magics that easily penetrate through defensive wards has given the confederacy power and influence to ensure the fair treatment of Veelas. As a member of the ICW, though, they are restrained at the moment from taking war to the few communities that defiled their children. It's only a matter of time before they strike._


	32. Chapter 32

Harry and Shirou both became popular after their showing off sparring, especially among the boys.

This was not to say that they weren't popular with the girls. Oh no. Shirou now had a literal gang of girl chasing him day in and day out. He actually wanted to have Tamamo at his side, if it was only to keep the fangirls away from him.

Shirou thanked his luck that he was able to dodge the fangirls rather easily.

His luck ran out with the boys, though. The boys kept on bugging him to teach them, which he would reject politely as possible, pointing out that he needed to invest a lot of time into his personal projects. Some of the pureblood heirs -as few of them there were- tried to pry a few secrets of Shirou and Harry's magics (magecraft), but no one was successful.

Especially so when they were constantly turned towards the Mage's Association for education regarding those magics.

Sufficed to say, many purebloods and some halfbloods grew passive aggressive towards the duo upon learning of their magus heritage and education. Yes, even Harry, their savior from You-Know-Who, gained scorned for learning from the magus.

Then they -those who hadn't learned about the duo until this point- shat their pants upon learning from their parents that their adoptive father was none other than the magical boogeyman, the Magus Killer.

And thus through adoration turned confusion turned demand turned scorn turned fear, life in Hogwarts for the duo returned to normal.

...

...

*snort*

They wished it had.

Harry frowned as he stared down at one Jonathan Cavendish.

He was one of his own housemates. An older student who was also the heir to the House of Cavendish. While not rich like the Malfoys, they were influential in ways that Malfoy could not be.

And the heir was using that influence against Harry and Shirou.

Jonathan Cavendish was a budding man of morals. He viewed the world in black and white. He said as much to Harry himself the second time they met. And to the Cavendish, Harry and Shirou were not supposed to be in Hogwarts, and thus were targets.

Of course, he didn't overtly do anything. He didn't spread rumors or denounce them. No. Instead of directing himself against the Emiyas, he convinced others to do it in his steady.

Potion ingredients were ruined. Homework disappeared. Spitballs were hurled. Spells were interfered. And toes were attempted to be tripped (they didn't succeed with this).

It was a proxy war.

Shirou, who had been through something similar, simply ignored them. The bullies did try more to gain Shirou's suffering, but all they got in return was a pair of blades too close to their gentials.

Harry, on the other hand, was too proud to simply report these to the professors. Something in him niggled at him to get back at them. To make them suffer tenfold for the inconveniences he unjustly progressed through. at the same time, his Emiya-complex (a mental condition one grew up with as Shirou as their older brother) told him to at least give the bullies a chance to stop before he enacted his revenge.

He discussed this with Shirou, who wanted to sic his arsenal on the bullies for daring to touch his brother, but Harry firmly told his older brother that this was his issue and thus it was he who must solve it. Shirou reluctantly agreed after Harry promised to distract Tamamo when they go back home for vacation, but with a firm promise to bring him into the matter if it got out of his hand. Harry agreed to the stipulations.

So there. He now stood before the leader of the bullies. A self-righteous dickhead who needed a little reminding.

Jonathan just stared at Harry impassively. "I've done nothing, Heir Potter."

'So that's how you want to play this?' Harry thought mentally but snorted outwardly, making his mental process pretty clear to Jonathan on the matter. Then he put on his best politician facade. "Heir Cavendish, surely you don't insult another so readily?" he asked as equally impassive.

The teen raised an eyebrow. "Oh? In what way have I insulted anyone?"

"Declaring that I haven't seen through your proxy war for one, because you're too cowardly to bully me yourself."

Jonathan glared at Harry. "Watch your mouth, Heir Potter. It seems you're the one who can't act according to his station."

"You mean neglecting and bullying others based on incomplete beliefs and facts like a radical pureblood?" Harry sniped in return. "Then I'll have to decline that post; it doesn't suit my taste nor my upbringing."

"An upbringing of a magus."

"So you do acknowledge you have something against me!"

"No. I am merely stating a fact."

"You could've also said Japanese upbringing, since that's where I grew up. It's something I announced on day one of my Hogwarts life, after all."

Jonathan didn't reply. He just kept up his glare. Harry knew, however, that Jonathan knew that he had no comeback here without looking foolish. And hence, his silence.

"...I'm surprised you didn't bring your brother into this."

Harry smiled. "I love my brother, but if I bring him here, he's more likely to turn this corridor red."

"Brutish as a magus, then."

"Oh no. If my brother was a real magus, no one would know that the corridor had been repainted in red, because the clean up would be tidy and spotless, unlike many wizards' perspective. Like yours, for example."

"A kid like you shouldn't be badmouthing their senior."

"A senior is only recognized if he acts like it. Otherwise, he's another stranger in need of education."

"You s-!" Jonathan reached for his wand, but Harry was faster. Harry's hand swiped into his robes, and pulled out his mystic code. Then in the same motion, he placed the code right above Cavendish's groin.

Harry would've placed it on the teen's neck, but the height difference didn't allow for it.

"...!"

"I may have been trained with magi, Heir Cavendish," Harry smiled a smile that didn't reach his eyes. "But I am mostly self-taught."

Jonathan sneered at Harry, and the boy had to give it to the Cavendish heir; most teen and children in his circumstance would not be sneering so easily. "Impossible-"

Harry sneered in return and chanted. "Ugarac So!"

Ugarac So. It was Kazakhi shaman ritual that requires a verbal activation. It acted similar to Reinforcement of the body, but instead of using prana, it used the od of the environment.

Harry's skin blackened and his eyes reddened.

"Is this enough for you?" he snarled.

This was enough to still the teen, and he stilled in surprise.

Harry sneered again, and kicked Jonathan away. The teen tumbled away like a tumbleweed before striking the walls of the corridor with his back. "Get out of my sight, and I'd better not be bothered again."

Jonathan quickly ran away with his tails between his legs. When he was out of sight, Harry released Ugarac So.

"You think that's enough?" he asked sheepishly at the shadows. "I may have overdone it..."

Shirou emerged with a smile on his face. "No. You did just fine. Some people need direct threats to their life to ... change their mind," he said.

"Did dad teach you that?"

Shirou hummed.

* * *

The rumor was quick to subside as did the bullying.

There were a few more independent attempts at screwing Harry up, but Harry repeated his Cavendish performance with them. Most didn't need Ugarac So to be deterred.

However, one of them squealed to McGonagall in fear, telling her everything. About Jonathan Cavendish being a ring leader behind Harry's bullying. About the "counterattack" made by Harry himself and his near ease of using weapons. About the threats thrown the bully's way.

McGonagall called up both Shirou and Harry regarding this matter, and got Dumbledore to join her.

"Now Mr. Potter, I would like for you to explain yourself as to why your response to the bullies have to be so extreme," Professor McGonagall began.

Harry stared at her for a second before grunting.

Shirou raised an eyebrow, not at the professor, but at his brother's antics.

"Were you aware of it?" Harry asked in return without answering.

"No, I was not," she replied honestly. "I may have seen some in my class act out against you -which I know now was part of Mr. Cavendish's bullying- but at the time, I had simply put it aside as boys being boys."

"?"

The confused look on his face must have amused her, because the stoic woman chuckled a little. "Boys being boys simply refer to more hands-on experience that boys undergo, Mr. Potter. I'm actually surprised, though. I've yet to see you act like a normal boy."

Harry shrugged. "It's not fun playing around. I would rather find new things and learn how to make new mystic codes."

She nodded. "But you still haven't answered my question, Mr. Potter. Can you tell me why you felt the need to respond to the bullies as you did?" she asked firmly, though there was an edge of softness.

Harry stared at her right in the eyes. He didn't do it in defiance but mere curiosity. Then he answered her. "Some people only understand force, professor. I only resorted to pulling out my Hatsukeiketsu after diplomacy failed."

"Hatsu... kaiketsu?"

"Keiketsu, Minerva. Hatsukeiketsu means new solution," Dumbledore interjected for the confused professor. "You named your mystic code?" he asked Harry.

Harry nodded before turning slightly sheepish. "I ... got a bit tired and scared of Mr. Olivander's way of finding wands, so I went and made this. So I named it for what it was: a new solution adapted instead of the old."

Dumbledore nodded slowly. "Yes, yes. I understand."

Before the flow of the conversation could digress, Professor McGonagall spoke up. "Only diplomacy? You could have told us, Mr. Potter," she asked.

Harry looked like he wanted to laugh. "Professor, would Voldemort have stopped because the Ministry told him to stop his massacres?"

That was a low blow, and Harry knew it.

"Mr. Potter, that is rude to compare Mr. Cavendish with the Dark Lord!" she chatised.

"Sorry, but I meant to say that as far as I was concerned, Jonathan didn't seem like he wanted to stop. And I certainly was not going to bribe him to stop."

Professor sighed. "I see. While you were in the wrong to pull out your wand-"

"Mystic code, my dear."

She ignored the headmaster. "-, it was largely Mr. Cavendish's fault for initiating the bullying. Just as you will be punished for your wrongdoing, he shall be punished to match his own wrongdoing."

Harry nodded. It was acceptable. "Yes, ma'am."

She nodded. "Then you will withhold the use of your wand-"

"Mystic code, my dear."

"Fine, mystic code. You will withhold the use of your mystic code outside of classroom setting for the next week. Your brother will confirm this for me," she said.

Shirou blinked but he nodded. It wasn't a harsh punishment. "I was expecting you to ... act out more, Professor," Shirou stated.

McGonagall raised an eyebrow. "Mr. Potters ... mystic code may look more threatening, but in the end, wands are equally threatening in the hands of capable men and women. Mr. Cavendish is a capable fighter in the dueling circles of Hogwarts, and technically speaking -from what I hear-, Mr. Cavendish withdrew his wand first."

"I've also noticed that you don't call the heirs of houses by their title, professor. Why is that?" Harry threw in. He couldn't resist knowing reasons behind little details like that.

McGonagall stared at Harry. "Mr. Potter, I've taught three generations of Cavendishs so far. To myself and Headmaster Dumbledore, titles are fancy little names youngsters give to themselves. Perhaps in a formal setting, we might call them by their titles, but this is Hogwarts, the neutral ground for all of Britain in these tumultuous times. Titles mean little here to the professors beyond first impressions."

* * *

AS the two Emiyas walked down the corridor after being dismissed, Harry had a thought.

"I like Professor McGonagall."

"I do too."

"She's fair and nice when we're honest. She has that ... depth? to her."

Shirou nodded. He understood what Harry was trying to convey.

Professor McGonagall, whom they haven't talked to outside of classroom settings, seemed to him as a fair teacher. She initially gave off an intense "black-and-white world observer" kind of vibe, but as they all talked more -sans headmaster-, he understood her better. The new understanding of another person tempted Shirou to take a look around with his Structural Analysis to see more, but he held back.

There were some histories people were uncomfortable and unwilling to share; he would respect that privacy.

"-rou? Shirou?"

He stopped and looked at Harry. "Yes?"

"You spaced out."

He blinked before smiling. "It's nothing, Harry. Just thinking."

"New project?"

"No, just the professor."

"... You don't _like_ her, do you?"

"I have Tamamo to deal with, Harry. No, I don't."

"Oh, so you do admit that you like Tamamo! Wait til she hears this!"

"Brat...!"

* * *

"In control?"

"Definitely," McGonagall replied to her longtime friend's short question. "Harry does not seem like a child who would lash out easily. He'll definitely try to find a solution, alternative or mainstream, but he'll try."

Dumbledore nodded. It was the conclusion to his analysis of the youth as well. "And Shirou?"

"Odd."

"Odd how, Minerva?"

"I couldn't get a single read on him, Albus. It was like ... staring at a block of steel."

"Sword, my dear."

"I'm sorry?"

"Shirou's elemental affinity is sword, Minerva. It's ... expected of the boy to behave like one."

"... Then shouldn't he have intercepted Jonathan on Harry's behalf?"

"Harry did say he attempted diplomacy first. He may have asked Shriou to not do so."

"I see. That is definitely a possibility."

Dumbledore puffed out a ring of smoke.

She raised an eyebrow.

He chuckled. "Trying new things, dear. I'm still young."

"Says the fifth oldest wizard in Europe."

"Fourth, my dear."

"It doesn't help your case."

"Oh... maybe it does."

"I'm done here."

* * *

Life returned to normal.

Jonathan Cavendish was punished for not only organizing students to bully another, but on pulling out his wand first. His parents were also notified, though the identity of the victim was not released to them.

They found out anyway.

The howler that arrived on December 8th, 2007 was recorded in the History of Hogwarts as one of the most thorough tongue lashing that the studnet populace had the pleasure of hearing not because of its volume but because of the verbal ingenuity behind it. Though the student body would not know until a few decades later, the contents and the speech pattern used in the Howler of December 8th, 2007 would be used in future politics classes as one of the masterpieces of speech.

But to discuss the details of such future event would digress from the story.

Harry cared little.

While the Howler of December 8th, 2007 rattled on while the Heir of the Cavendish tried to sink into the ground, Harry simply read more of the Obscure Tome for both pleasure and learning.

Today, he was reading about the magical humanoid races of Earth...

* * *

 _Veela_  
 _Capable of turning into flaming birds when enraged, Veelas are the only possessor of magical transformation at will. Numbering less than tenth of a percent of the total population of the planet, the Veelas are beautiful to all humans for their golden hair and smooth skin. They are proud women, since there are no male veelas. The furthest record of Veela's existence goes back to 3,440 B.C., where a manuscript descrbing a veela was found in modern day Syria._

 _Wizard and witchkin_  
 _Most numerous among the magical humanoids, wizards and witches are all over the globe with their own ethnicity and culture. Because of this, it is very easy to distinguish a wizard or witch from the rest of the mundane populace. Most of time, they haven't been trained properly in the social ettiquette of the modern world, and will stand out. Though they are the weakest of the magical humanoids, they are also the most creative, and many magical humanoids find their origin from the wizards and witches._

 _Magus_  
 _The least populace of the magical humanoids, magi have been described by all as "cold hearted bastards." This is not far off the mark as most magi are too lost in their pursuit of the "Root," the origin of all knowledge, sentience, and life. While wizards and witches are the most creative, magus are the most logical and engineer-like of all magical humanoids. They study years to understand the laws of magic like the science-major students in mundane universities, and applies their knowledge to their magecraft. Unfortunately for them, their pursuit has also decreased their libido, and the magus population shrinks to this day._

 _Dwarves_  
 _The tiniest of all magical humanoids, the dwarves are lover of rocks, minerals, and metals. But this is not because of some sort of greed or lust. Dwarves posses Mystical Eyes of Materials, which allows them to see an object down to its true depth. This the reason why dwarves_ hate _human made goods; they see all of the flaws and can't be helped but feel disgusted by them._

 _Fairies_  
 _Technically speaking, mer, goblin, and dryad are part of the fairies. They are born of nature spirits that have discarded their elemental form in favor of the solid form. However, they have forgotten their own history and ancestors. Today, they are nothin but a shadow of their former selves. Please do not confuse this term with the magi's "fairy," which refers to non-sentient, prana-deprieved, and ever hungry tiny fairies. Those are closer to magical insects than not._

 _Giants_  
 _The biggest and the strongest. The giants of Earth may have their origin from mundane humans, but they are not among them anymore. Giants are possessors of three specific characteristics: extreme height, magic-resistant skin, and less than average intellect. That's it. If you meet those three criteria, you are a giant._

 _Werewolves_  
 _There are two kinds of werewolves. The cursed and the chosen. The cursed are those who become werewolves because they were bit by a feral werewolf, which is a magical disease that "viralizes" a werewolf's bodily fluid to be infectious. Kind of like prions. Chosen werewolves, on the other hand, are those who became werewolves by choice. They undergo multiple rituals to become a werewolf, which is half as magically resistant as a giant but stronger than normal human. A chosen werewolf is sane, and therefore can use magic. In the past, there were battlesworn chosens who lept into battle like berserks and laid wastes to entire portions of an army by themselves. They are far and few between now, though._

 _True Ancestors_  
 _They may wear the skin of men and women, but they are not human. They are only classified as humanoid because that is what they appear to be most of them. True Ancestors, or as we know it, the origin of all things vampirical, are the product of Type Moon, an entity that represents the Moon itself. They crave human blood. They are magically classified as "supreme elemental" by wizard and witchkin because they can essentially impose their will upon the world to twist reality to fit their perspective of the world._

 _Leviathans_  
 _No one knows where they came from. A leviathan passingly once told its worshippers that it came from the stars long before this world was even formed, but such a statement is debatable at the moment. What is known about the leviathan is that their human form is "optional." Though they are appear to be human when they appear before humanoids, in truth, their true form is akin to a giant sea snake with scales that rival mountains in size. They can become immaterial and material at will. Yet despite all of their power, leviathans are happy to leave the world alone, and often interfere with each other's attempt to influence or act upon the world. Leviathans' magical potential has not been measured or observed, but they are estimated to be as capable as True Ancestors._


	33. Chapter 33

**Fixed on 4/15. Thank you, Kminari for pointing those out.**

* * *

"So the boy wants my help in dealing with him?"

"Yes."

"... Your lack of deference to your betters makes for a very poor persuasive material. You know this, right?"

"If you were not interested or not invested in this, yes. But I know that you are, and thus I find such needless formalities useless, oh Lord of Vampires."

The said lord scoffed. "Who else is coming to fight them?"

"The Danish Blood Enclave, the Dutch White Veela Syndicate, and the Necromancy League of Paris. Should you join, there will be a 10% in our ranks."

The vampire raised an eyebrow. "A mere 10%? My flight of vampires, which has more than a dozen Dead Apostles capable of fighting against the Prides and Enforcers of Mage's Association, increases your ranks by 10%?"

"Just as you know that the Danish Blood Enclave can easily defeat your enclave without issue. All of the troops my lord gathers are of high quality."

He didn't reply to that, not when he knew it was true. "And payment for this?"

"My employers are willing to pay in bodies. Bodies capable of producing more blood than any known human. Bodies bred and made specifically for the purpose of being livestock."

"... Give me a week to decide."

"Of course."

 **/\/\/\/\/\/\/\**

Kiritsugu frowned.

In the chaos that resulted after the dissolution of Wizarding Britain to individual moonlit nation states, he recruited many disgruntled, disillusioned, and dismayed wizards and witches into his ranks. At the start of this endeavor, he had maybe a dozen.

Now? He had an entire city of wizards and witches (most of whom were mundaneborn or half-blood), numbering approximately three thousand.

But a new problem had risen up within his ranks.

They (wizards and witches) had split up into factions, each vying for his approval and support. This was a problem because it reduced cooperation, efficiency, and production.

Well, on top of that, he didn't like his own men and women fighting each other over petty things. Sport rivalry was the maximum he was going to accept on group rivalry outside of personal vendetta, which most of these factions were. There were only two factions who concerned themselves over sport, and that was between Quidditch and Football.

However, due to his own wording of the contract to allow for maximum socialization -and thus increasing the likelihood of the wizards and witches wanting to remain in his Emiya Alliance- also prevented his direct input or action against such factions as long as he couldn't directly see the effects of such factional disputes.

His own plan had, essentially, backfired on him, however slight and out of sight it may be.

On the other hand, his Servants were not bound by such rule...

Unfortunately, they were also the source of factions.

Those who called themselves Blue Knights, a minor faction numbering in three dozens, followed Saber wherever she went. They were simply enraptured by her regal authority that she just exuded by simply existing.

They were then hated and hated by the Warriors of Thor, who decided that despite naming their group after a Nordic god, they were going to emulate Berserker. This, by extension, made them Ilyasviel's toys.

Speaking of his daughter...

"No, no, no! That's not how you link those artificial circuits together!" she shrieked at another witch who took her magical biology class.

Due to substandard education of Wizarding Britain as a whole, Kiritsugu had been forced to open up classes to his own ranks so that they wouldn't get themselves killed in the workshop or the field.

Ilya volunteered to make and teach a class she dubbed "Interaction of Magic, Biology, Chemistry, and Alchemy." Ilya tried to impress him with what they were going to do until he pointed out that those who wanted to take that particular class would need to have taken alchemy and have a strong foundation over the subject. A quick survey told everyone that the class would not exist, period.

So she dumbed down her class to "Magical Biology and Chemistry."

Unfortunately, outside of potions, most of the wizards and witches didn't know chemistry.

This resulted in Ilya's class being finalized as "Magical Biology," a subject class offered in Clock Tower to first-generation magi.

And people were still making mistakes!

One witch, in particular, was being chatised loudly by Ilya as he watched.

"What were you thinking?! Did you think that simply shoving in a artificial magic circuit made for _homunculi_ into an animal would make them better? Those circuits were designed for humanoid usage! I didn't give them to you so you can experiment without permission! I gave one to you to make yourself a puppet, not blow up a dog!" she shrieked.

The witch's red face and caving in posture told Ilya and Kiritsugu that she knew what she had done wrong, or at least they hoped.

Or perhaps the red was just the blood that _had been splattered everywhere_ with the explosion.

Which brought Kiritsugu to his next thought.

Artificial circuits. Since all things had souls, it was safe to say that they also possessed magic circuits, whatever the number. Even rabbits had a magic circuit, even if it was just one tiny lobe pumping out barely a unit of prana. With Obscure Tome's knowledge, Emiya Alliance was able to use the animals as ingredients to make artificial magic circuits, or Circuit Replicas, to use in puppets(or golems, as some prefer to name them), weapons, and etc.

The tome, unfortunately, was gone, and everyone in the inner circle of the alliance knew who took it.

 _Harry._

Still, there were a lot of things the alliance had to do, and Kiritsugu trusted Shirou to keep both Harry and the tome safe.

"Ilya, don't push too much," he admonished his daughter.

Ilya, who was about to go off again on the poor witch, frowned and pouted. "But they won't learn then!"

"They have time," he said as he walked up to her and picked her up, earning him a happy squeal. "But it's time for dinner, and Tamamo is cooking."

Ilya pouted again. "She's going to give me vegetables! I don't like them!" she complained.

"You're growing again, thanks to Harry. You nee-"

"Ha... HA... HAHAHA~!"

The two Emiyas sweated dropped before looking towards the Tohsaka Tower, a name bestowed by the entire alliance due to her classes being held there and her workshop also being there (kind of a open secret within the inner circle).

"Did she finally succeed in giving herself an extra magic circuit?" Ilya pondered out loud.

After being removed as the Second Owner of Fuyuki City (with the area no longer possessing accessible ley line) and accepting the Emiya Alliance's offer for a place among them, Rin had forced all of her exploits towards jewelcraft and circuit creation. Ilya supposed she could fi-

 **BOOM**

"Guess not."

 **/\/\/\/\/\/\/\**

Rin wanted to rip her hair out.

Why, why, Why, WHy, WHY WHY WHY?!

She growled as she slowly stood back up, and took a stock of the situation. Her workshop was protected by the wards and bounded fields, so the explosion didn't ruin anything beyond covering everything in a thin layer of ash.

She kicked the fragments of the jewel away from her.

Another ruby lost.

She sometimes hated her specialization. Her jewelcraft required so much goddamn money that most of the money she was earning while working with the Emiya Alliance was being funneled to fuel her own experiments. She barely had money for food at this rate! Thank the Lord her lodging was paid before she received her paycheck.

"So?"

Her upper cheek twitched upward, and she glared over her shoulder.

Ilya, floating in the hole made in her workshop by the explosion with a pair of Storch Ritter (the hair strand familiars), was smirking at her.

Rin wanted to punch that smirk off of her face.

The two of them had a rivalry between them. Between their specialization, ego, and status within the Emiya Alliance, the two of them were always at each other's way. They always wanted to outdo the other, and every time someone made a mistake, the other would be there, smirking and celebrating their rival's failure.

Last time, it had been Ilya and her giant Storch Ritter (which didn't explode as much as simply shatter), and this time, it was Rin and her attempt at Circuit Replica creation.

"What are you here for, chibi?" Rin growled.

"Oh my, the dog can't hold its anger when its _master_ shows up."

What made it worse was that Circuit Replica was a branch of alchemy, and ... well, that's Ilya's specialization.

"Girls."

The two of them looked down towards the ground, where a small audience were gathering. Kiritsugu was also there with a frown on his face.

"Please stop making a scene. We need our recruits to focus."

"Yes, sir./Okay, daddy."

The two glared at each other.

Kiritsugu sighed.

 **/\/\/\/\/\/\/\**

Harry was less than happy.

While the problem of bullies had been taken care, how he had to use his last resort (violence) to put an end to it caused some of the others in the school to become less than friendly with him. They -like the bullies before them- whispered about the "brutality" of the magus education and how barbaric it was.

Of course, any attempt from him to improve that image was taken as "deceiving."

How fickle.

At first, Harry didn't mind. They sat away from him, and tried to not get in his way. That was a boon compared to how the children kept on trying to bother him because he was the "Boy-Who-Lived" or heir to Most Ancient and Noble House of Potter. It was refreshing, even!

Then new troubles started.

Students in the 1st and 2nd years who thought they had something to prove approached him with swagger in their steps and trust in their wands.

Harry showed everyone why one should not touch him.

That earned him another round of talk with his grandfather and Professor McGonagall.

Harry didn't care much in the end as the school year progressed. His mind just tossed those annoyances as schoolyard version of politics and left the entire student body alone. This, of course, did nothing to help his situation in the eyes of the students.

Eventually, he only ever showed up for classes and meals, and disappeared -even between classes.

Beyond the classwork and homework, all he focused on for the duration of his first year at Hogwarts became his personal projects.

 **/\/\/\/\/\/\/\**

Harry pondered how to solve the problem before him.

Snape has assigned all of the 3rd years -his class- a homework -really, it was "dormwork"- on researching what reagents would be best suited for the Lesser Soothing Cream they were to make next class.

Lesser Soothing Cream was a normal product that every witch or wizard knew how to make (though mess its production made often forced many to delegate -and later forget- its production to others). Strikingly similar to mundane products, the lesser soothing cream was an emulsion that took away any uncomfortable feeling. Mundane products did this by removing heat or chemicals involved in creating those feelings. Magical soothing cream went about it by removing the "source" of the feeling.

Yup. From Harry's perspective, it was a bullshit stuff. Having grown with magus as a role model, the wizardry and witchcraft made no sense to him. Potions was close to cooking, which he liked thanks to Shirou-nii, but he was no cook; he was a tinkerer, not a recipe maker.

To that end, while he understood the reason what reagents worked better with which ingredient, his mind hated having to know so without knowing why.

At least with the rituals and crafts, he understood that concepts were being reinforced and whatnot by the usage of prana to enact miracles. Potions? It didn't even transfer or reinforce a concept.

Bloody hell, how does a fucking newt eyeball have to do with removing source of an uncomfortable feeling? Newt skin, he could understand, but eyeball?

He shook his head.

Still, he enjoyed it. Just because he didn't understand it didn't mean that he didn't appreciate learning new things. In fact, he had plans -once he went back home- to see _how_ these reagents and ingredients worked together to do what they did.

'Actually, what do fertile river soil granules affect?' he thought to himself as he twirled his fountain pen around. 'I suppose that fertile soil has been considered to possess a "regenerative" attribute. Does this mean that the focal point of this cream is not the newt eyeball, which has to be processed so finely, but some crumbs of soil that we just toss into the cauldron?'

After thinking about it for good five minutes, Harry nodded to himself and wrote his conclusion down and why newt eyeball was a _bad_ reagent.

He now understood why newt eyeball was added; its "concept" was in "magnification."

"So that's how it works," he grinned to himself.

Could've learned from tome.

"I know, I know," Harry told the tome. "But where would the achievement be in that?"

 _ **Power.**_

"But power comes and goes," Harry replied, though it was really him just copying what his father said. "If I don't get the experience, then what use is power outside of overwhelming any barrier?"

 _ **Host has grown wise.**_

"Thank you." There was a pause. "What does it feel like?"

No response. Perhaps he hadn't been clear enough?

'What does it feel like to not have a body? To have to hitchhike on mine.'

 _ **Irrelevant.**_

"But you do feel something?"

 _ **Yes. Again, irrelevant.**_

"Okay then. Now, help me improve this potion."

 _… **Article 'Sonju's Siberian Soju' on page 5,190 of the tome points out that usage of elk horns, which regrows every year, improved his Cold-Away Potion.**_

"Elk horns? How would I go about acquiring that here?"

 _ **Portal to Siberia can be easily opened with ritual 'Ahrm's Mover,' requiring coordinate inputs of the target location relative to your location. It'll require a lot of prana and mana, however.**_

Harry looked around. "Well, we're at Hogwarts, where multiple leylines intersect. I think we have plenty of mana. Can you open up yourself up to that page?"

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

Snape read Harry's article and the … elk horns that had come along with it.

The essay had been well written, and to the point. Harry pointed out that the cause of the effects of the potion came from the conceptual properties of the potion ingredients being transferred to the potion/cream itself by the usage of magical transference that occurs in the brewing process. Then he pointed out that compared to newt eyeballs, elk horns were much easily obtained and in greater quantities.

The boy then digressed into economical benefits of running a elk farm rather than a newt farm. Unfortunately, that particular bit wasn't on topic, so points were taken.

However, by providing his own material to back up the theory he had written, Harry had essentially earned those points back anyway.

What confused Snape was where Harry might have learned about elk horn usage in potions.

Snape himself didn't know, and he knew for a fact that Dumbledore didn't know.

Was it his family?

He shook his head.

'Where he heard it is not my business,' Snape thought as he graded the paper and moved onto the next. 'But a good read, nonetheless.'

Then he scowled as his own Slytherin's work came up as a chicken scratch.

"Bloody ingrats," he muttered to himself as he bled the paper with his red ink.

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

When Harry got his essay back, he had been pleasantly surprised. He received extra mark for providing the professor with 'good quality potion ingredient.' He had submitted those horns to prove his point -after he tested them out, of course- so that what he wrote could be

Then he read at the bottom that his essay had been marked as a 'theory' and that Snape had persoally brewed the altered cream, which turned out to be better at its job than the generic one. To that end, Snape had submitted the essay and the cream he brewed to the International Journal of Potion Brewery with Harry's name as the main contributor to the alteration.

Yes, Harry was pleasantly surprised. He had heard that Snape was a ruthless "son of a bitch" from most of the non-Slytherins, and as a Ravenclaw, he expected to receive the same treatment.

… Well, he certainly wasn't going to reject a round-about way to congratulate him, because that's what this actually was as far as he was concerned.

'I mean,' Harry thought to himself as he gave the potions professor a nod before he left the classroom. 'He didn't say anything bad or good in the paper, gives me a full grade, and then pops this up so that only I'll be able to see it.'

Now that he thought about it, Harry's respect for the man grew.

Not only did he congratulate his student, he did it without centering attention or causing a shift in opinions of others with his words.

'… Oh well,' Harry thought as he bundled up the parchment into his backpack, and moved on. 'I wonder what experiment I should perform tonight. I've been thinking since I already have the elk horns, I might try to infuse them with stone to see what effect it has. Would it even have a significant effect?'

So, he walked out, happily thinking of things to do.

/\/\/\/\/\/\

"Hey."

Harry stopped and looked around. He found the caller. It was … uhh... some Gryffindor girl. "Hello?" he asked.

The girl looked him over once.

"You're not what everyone expected."

Harry groaned. "Everyone is going off about that. Does it really matter?"

She gave him a contemplating stare before nodding.

He shook his head. "It shouldn't."

"Why not?"

"Because if there's trouble, it wouldn't be me who solves them. It'll be my brother."

She raised an eyebrow. "Your adopted brother?"

Harry nodded. "He's strong. Not the strongest, but definitely strong enough to fight anything the world throws at him." 'Okay, maybe not the effigies of Gaia or the Counter Guardians or the True Dead Apostle Ancestors any time soon, but most things,' he admitted silently.

"But you're the Boy-Who-Lived."

"And you're a Girl-Who-Lives. What's your point?" Harry asked with a frown. "Actually, aren't you a bit late for this? Everyone was asking this kind of question a month ago."

She tilted her head. "I was busy."

"With?"

"Stuff."

"Fine. But what's your name? It's rude to not introduce yourself," he pointed out.

She stood there, gently swaying from side to side. Then she paused. "My name is Hermoine Granger. It's nice to meet you."

He nodded and went on his way.

Hermoine, on the other hand, remained there.

As she had thought, Harry Potter-Emiya was a different sort. He had developed further than his peers. Perhaps he was on her level, or was she on his level? He was the heir of an Ancient and Most Noble House of Potter, had been taught -and still was educated- in deep magical roots, and knew much more about the world than she did.

She nodded mentally to herself. She had decided. Harry would be her goal. To be as good as him and then surpass him. It was an improbable goal, she knew, but she walked away happily at finally having a goal.

After all, if you don't work for it, it's not worth it.


End file.
